My son was taken to the cubicles area and put next to a poor old Turkish lady taking her last breaths with half a curtain between us. The Dr sat at a desk in the middle and people were piling in to sit at his desk and be triaged. Each of them sat about 3 feet from the poor lady giving her no privacy. The place was dirty, the door into the cubicles area were hanging on 1 hinge as the others were broken, windows didn't shut or open properly. It was like Piccadilly station in rush hour. We were sent home and he had to return the following day for tests and to see a surgeon. I had to learn very quickly how the Turkish queuing system worked, ie just push in or sit there all day. He was suspected of having appendicitis. Fortunately he did not have appendicitis and was given anti biotics. I was dreading him needing surgery.