ouch

The lifts are borked again at work.  In most places, this would be merely inconvenient; where I work it's downright daft.  As I toiled up to my office from the basement this morning, I chanced upon an elderly patient eyeing the "lifts out of order" signs with annoyance.
"It's organised chaos round here, isn't it?" he muttered.
"I'm very sorry about this, sir," I said.  "You're quite right, it's unacceptable really.  Would you like me to help you up the stairs?"
He accepted my offer, I shifted my armful of case-notes from one hip to the other, the patient took my free arm and, clutching the bannister with his other hand, we made a slow journey up two flights of stairs.  The patient grumbled all the way, and I couldn't disagree with him - we're a hospital.  Our patients are sick or elderly or both and working lifts should be taken for granted.
We reached the second floor where he his appointment was, and I walked him to the reception desk.  When we got there, he turned to me and said
"You couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery, you lot.  That's what happens when we let immigrants run the NHS."

You're welcome.