tits n’ pricks #4

I gave up the one day of the week I don’t work to be prodded, molested and run ragged.

Obviously my sole remit for my day at the hospital was the twiddling of my thumbs whilst covertly spying on people people-watching.  I was rudely interrupted from this fascinating activity by three short appointments, spread over four hours. 

appointment #1: the neph and the co-ordinator

She smiled at me and introduced herself.  It was nice to finally be able to  put a face to the voice, and she had a delicious twinkle in her eye which completely relaxed me.  After taking my blood pressure and noting down my weight, she took me to see to see Blokey’s nephrologist.  Once again I was bombarded with questions that I’ve answered previously.  I think everybody at A must be aware of my medical history by now.

When he told me to lie on the couch and unbutton my jeans he promised that his hands were cold.  He lied; they were quite warm.  This was good because he unexpectedly thrust them further down my knickers than I thought he would (heavens! thank goodness I sorted out my bikini line and wasn’t a straggly mess of bushy pubes!) to check the pulse in my groin.

After prodding my belly, listening to my heart and checking the pulses in my feet he declared that everything was in order.

I think that means I passed the neph test.

appointment #2: the mind probe

I’ve had counselling once before. I was at uni and he told me I was a typical student and certainly wasn’t depressed. This means that I lied to the mind probe woman because I proclaimed an emphatic ‘no‘ when she asked if I’d been mind-probed in the past. 

She made me nervous.  Was I answering her questions correctly?  Why did she want to know about my childhood?  What did it matter how many siblings I have, or where I come in their order?  Yes, of course people know I’m doing this.  No, they haven’t tried to talk me out of it. Yes, I’m aware of the risks.  We talk about death.  Yes, we have a support system in place.

You know that feeling you have when you leave an interview and you’re convinced they’re not going to offer you the position?  I felt like that afterwards.  So I drowned my sorrows in a tuna and cheese melt.  Yum.

appointment #3: the racing heart

Cardiology was full of Oldies.  Oh, apart from one chap who was probably a couple of years younger than me.  As he was called into a room I heard the mumbles of disapproval from the Oldies, who no doubt suspected him of deliberately causing his heart to go skewy at such a tender age.  When the tech came out to get me (oddly, she looked at everybody BUT me when she called my name; she was obviously expecting a little old lady despite knowing why I was there) I felt them turn their disapproving gazes in my direction.  I just smiled feebly at the floor.

I think there are many people in the hospital who have seen me semi-topless (they let me keep my bra on before covering my ample modesty with a gown.) I don’t envy them.  They stuck bits all over me and hooked me up to the machine.

Have you been on a treadmill before? they enquired.  I nodded.  Good, you just keep going as long as you can.  Every three minutes the speed and the incline increase.  You might last two minutes [thanks] or you might last ten.  But it’s not a race; we’re just checking your heart to make sure it can cope with the anaesthetic.

I managed nine minutes and eleven seconds.  I’m such a dweeb!  I must get the Wii Fit out again.

Afterwards they gave me water and made me rest.  My heart was stubbornly refusing to go back to ‘normal’ but apparently it hadn’t been ‘normal’ when I was first hooked up (nerves perhaps) so they didn’t think it would be an issue.  They said the doctors would be very happy with my results.

I think that means I passed.

*fingers crossed*

Despite one very long hot shower, one very long hot soak in the bath and oddles of scrubbing, I still have the nasty there was a sticky thing here! bits to prove I was there.

And then I went home on the very long bus journey, ridiculously craving a bed I couldn’t fall into because once home I had to go straight out again.

*sigh*

Coming soon: tits n’ pricks #5 22.02.2011; radioactive woman.

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