Grumbling below: 
I think I'm cursed. I just got over pneumonia not 2 weeks ago, when I went to Glasgow for 2 days to decide what museums to look at for my dissertation. Turns out, what I needed to be in the exhibits wasn't there. Almost at all. I'm basically back to square one with my dissertation. And I spent 2 days on my feet all day, carrying my backpack, winter coat and jacket, through museums, while taking notes. So, by the time I got home my back was really messed up. Then yesterday, I slipped and twisted my back wrong and hurt my back. It was so bad by this morning that I went to the hospital, hoping they could help with the muscle spasms. It really hurt, and all the waiting, and procedures in the hospital made it worse. But, by the time I'd been examined, x-rayed, and forgotten on a gurney in a hallway for about 45 minutes (I called to the nurse after I heard her shout across the hall asking if the Glasgow girl had left), they had given me some tramadol, and told me that I had a severe muscle spasm, but that since this was the emergency services, they didn't like to prescribe muscle relaxants because they don't know me, but my gp might be willing to if I go see him (of course, they don't open til Mon). So, they gave me tramadol, which I'm pretty sure is also addictive, so I don't get that logic. I don't need pain relief if the problem is gone, so wouldn't a muscle relaxant be a more effective treatment? I don't know. Anyway, *grumble grumble grumble*. 
However, I totally maintain my love of the NHS because I think it's a great program.