Just a big prick
I had to get up at fuckoff o'clock this morning.
It's a terrible hour to be raising the head off the pillow and seriously should be made illegal. Maybe it's not a bad hour for going to bed but getting up? Criminal.
I had to get up early as I had an appointment with Doc. He wanted to take blood samples or something and apparently it has to be done really early before I can contaminate my bloodstream with all the pleasures in life. That didn't stop me having a pipe-full and a mug of sweet tea before I went down though. That should fuck up his tests a bit and will probably have him screaming at me that I am in the final stages of diabetes or something.
He told me what the tests were that he was going to do. It all went over my head but apparently he is going to test to see if something is too high and something else is too low and a load of other tests in between. He also tests for prostate cancer which saves a bit of embarrassment.
"So you won't have to probe my rear end?" I asked.
"Fingers crossed" says he.
"Fuck off" says I. "It's one finger or nothing. I don't need no corkscrew effect."
"Fair enough." I don't think he relished the thought of exploring my nether regions anyway, so that's that sorted.
For the first time in living memory he asked if I was still smoking the pipe. Now he knows damn well I am, so the only possible reason he could have for asking was to try to scrounge some baccy off me. I asked him if he was still on the methadone. That shut him up.
Anyhows he reckons he'll have the results back in a week.
He was in fierce chatty form for such a ridiculous hour. He asked me what I was going to do with my extra €3 a week from the budget. I told him I was going to save up for a world cruise or maybe have half a pint of stout. I asked him how he was going to cope with all the snotty little under twelves. That wiped the smirk off him. Heh!
I just occurred to me that today is the anniversary of Herself having a stroke.
It hasn't affected her much apart from it being a great excuse to get out of all her duties.
We just have to wait a week now to see if I'm still alive.
Odd, I also had to be up ridiculously early today to attend the (nearly) local hospital for ultrasound scans. After waiting only about two hours, a very nice gentleman arrived and set up his kit. After about an hour of rolling around and taking deep breaths, I began to turn purple. Then he started the scans.
It's amazing to be able to see your insides. Apparently, there is a marble-sized gallstone loose, seeking a way out. "We'll let your doctor know the results" he said. Just have to wait for a month or so before they eventually tell me. Just love modern medical practices. On the other hand, as the lengthy procedure was over by 9 am, I did get a full day's shopping out of it. The wife enjoyed herself immensely.
I confess I have never seen inside myself [and I'm not really sure I want to] but I have certainly seen what Herself is made of.
Don't they treat gallstones by making them explode inside you? They shatter them [in a ball of flame?] leaving you to piss out the debris? Something else I think I would prefer to avoid.
As for shopping…….. Meh!
So, it's been a week or more. Are ya' dead or what? I take it that you're not since you've written several more posts since then–unless you're what they call a ghost writer? In that case, I apologize for missing the funeral.
And I'm really glad that herself is doing alright.