Monday, February 20, 2006

Without so much as a pot to piss in

So anyway, when I registered with the Health Centre, they signed me up for an introductory session with the nurse.

Along I went this morning, to wait (and eavesdrop) dutifully amongst the assembled infirm - "I'm blind you know." "Pardon?" (and I know that shouldn't be funny, but I'm sorry it just is, and it took my mind off the other people hacking their guts up around me).

I have to say, the entire expedition was a huge and pointless waste of my time and theirs. She weighed me (63.2 I think. 63.2 what? anyone know what that is in old money?), measured me against a rule that didn't seem to have any numbers on it, and seemed to give her so much difficulty in working it out that I suspect she made something up in the end, and took my blood pressure. And that was it, wham, bam, next please.

When I first went in she asked if I'd brought her a sample, and gave me a cross sort of look when I explained that no, I hadn't, because no one had asked me to. After being measured, I was subsequently banished to the loos armed with pot, where I spectacularly failed to perform. Despite having necked a glass of water before setting out, in suspicion of just such a request. I sidled back in, to where the nurse was discussing flavours of hot chocolate with another nurse. Said that I could drop it in the next day, really no bother. Was told that no, this wasn't necessary, really. Tried to give the pot back. No no, you keep it. You might need it. Need it? What the hell for? Making some sort of suburban grenade? Something to throw at muggers instead of mace?

The other thing about the experience I found slightly unsettling was that at the same time, another nurse was examining a man in the other half of the room. Now it's not as if either of us was being stripped or anything, but in the circumstances of a medical examination - any medical examination - I don't want random members of the public present, and I don't imagine he felt any more comfortable.

The final interesting element of all this of course, was that the last time I had my blood pressure taken, I promptly passed out across a doctor's table. And the (only) time before that, it had given me pins and needles for about 24 hours. Neither reaction, I am told, is normal. So you can imagine how eagerly I was anticipatng the reaction to this. In the event, it just sent me extremely weak and dizzy for the walk home, with the disturbing feeling that my head might be about to explode. Cheaper than doing drugs, I suppose.


At 8:19 pm , Anonymous Daquifsta said...

Impolite as it is to discuss a lady's weight, particularly right under her nose on her own blog, google has a wonderful built in unit convertor thingy. You just type in the usual box what you know and what units you want it in.
From google, 63.2 kg is 139.3 lbs. At 14 lbs per stone, this makes you 10 stone in old money.

At 5:22 pm , Blogger Who is this Dave? said...

No, no, no. Crucial point. It makes you less than ten stone.


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