Meeting Dr Jekyll
I paid a visit to Doc yesterday.
Please don’t panic. Nothing to worry about. It was just a 10,000 mile service as it were.
It was the usual routine visit – blood pressure [fine], listen to the heart [still beating], lungs [could inflate a barrage balloon] and the usual other tests to make sure I’ll live until the next service.
I mentioned in passing that I was putting on weight.
Now this concern of mine is fuck all to do with the Nanny State’s determination to have us all looking like Kate Moss [mind you – if they want to make Herself look like Kate Moss……..?]. It is a simple matter of economics. If I put on weight then I can’t fit into all my trousers as they’d all be too tight and I’d have to go out and buy a new lot. I fucking hate shopping for clothes.
A few months ago I had mentioned that I thought I was putting on a couple of pounds and he diagnosed it as a pregnancy. He couldn’t stand by that diagnosis now though, as I would be well past my due date and the old stomach hadn’t expanded that much anyway.
He scratched his chin.
“Do you smoke?” he asked eventually.
Now I wasn’t going to fall for that one. I knew he was just on the scrounge for a fill of tobacco so I told him that no, I never smoked in my life.
“Do you drink much?”
“I’d have to think about that” I replied.
“It’s a simple question” says he. “When did you last have a drink?”
“About a year ago,” I told him.
He was happy with that and decided my weight gain was probably down a dose of Bovine Colic and that I should eat less grass.
And that in a nutshell is why I get on so well with Doc. He never mixes business with his social life, or even his social life with business. The fact that the two of us had necked a few pints the night before is irrelevant in the surgery. What happens in the pub is sacrosanct and confidential.
No wonder they call him Doc Jekyll behind his back.
Christ, the doctors around these parts are like the Gestapo, seriously!! First question, 'do you drink? How much? Do you smoke? How many a day? Do you take exercise?' If you are stupid enough to tell the truth you get a look as if you are Jimmy Savile or something with a patronizing talking to to follow. If I were to tell them that I also eat quite a few curries, they would probably call the police.
Helloooooo….
Anybody out there? Aw, hell, you are all out bloody trick or treating! Traitors!
It's one of the advantages of Doc – seeing as he trained as a vet [he does the doctor bit as a sideline] he doesn't worry about smoking , drinking or any of that shit. I presume they weren't mentioned during his training.
Pregnant?!?
Just thinking how much I wouldn't like to meet the father …
A slight case of misdiagnosis. He admits that now.
GD…Did you get the rebore. I recon you should have had the head skimmed and the valves reground too.
Maybe The Doc should have checked your nonaligned splined spiggot shaft.
If you grease up your big ends you should be alright Heh!
My splined spigot shaft is perfectly aligned, thanks very much. And Doc says my big end is in fine shape. Seeing as he trained on horses, I take that as a compliment.
Heh! he sounds like a regular HSE type. You're lucky he did'nt train on Jack Russell's, although from your description, it sounds like his training was in heavy diesel vehicles.
"he sounds like a regular HSE type" There is no need for insults. Doc is the salt of the earth and a fine poker player. I just wish he'd stop robbing my pipe tobacco.
You're not pregnant, Grandad. You're just constipated. Eat a prune and quite complaining about your waist size.
Constipated my arse. The dinners I cook up are guaranteed to ream out any sewerage system. And I wouldn't give a damn about my waste size only I am running out of perfectly good trousers.
Okay, I hear you there. I've a half a dozen or so perfectly good light colored summer work pants that (when washed and ironed) can double for going out to dinner or working at my wife's store. And every one of them had to be put into storage in the closet since I can't fit into them any longer. And I'm a slim type of guy. The waist size says 34" but it lies I'm sure. The real kicker is that these were part of my work uniform when I worked at a home medical supply company a few years ago so I didn't have to pay for the things. High quality too! Now I'm going to have to pony up the dough for another 3 or 4 sets. Bugger!
"I'm going to have to pony up the dough for another 3 or 4 sets" or lose a few pounds? I rest my case, M'lud.
"I rest my case, M'lud"
Probably why you've gained a few pounds? Resting your case too much? ;-D
Currently I'm 155 lbs at 5'11". At that I'm still considered a bit underweight for my height…I think. I wouldn't mind buying a few sets of new pants but having to travel 4 hours round trip to do so gets a bit irritating. Yeah, yeah, I know. I chose to live here and personally i wouldn't live anywhere else, pants or no pants. Take that as you will.
No, you're not fat. You're just carrying beer's baby! And taking that last drink about a year ago would be true if you assume he was talking about water. Thanks as always for the laughs!
Natural expansion is my term for it. Things that used to be Up Top have slid down a bit causing a bulge. It gives a whole new meaning to having one's heart in one's stomach.
Absolutely! If you need the muscle you can slide it back up again and if you need to put it to…well, never mind that.