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If at First . . .

December 28, 2009

13th Aug 2008

Having failed in their attempt to kill me, the NHS tried humiliating me. A week after my heart was put through its paces, I was back.

I handed my appointment letter in at the desk and was given a ‘wee’ bottle and asked to provide a ’sample’

So off I trotted to the loo.

Well once you’ve started you don’t think to stop, do you?

So there I was, bottle in one hand, aiming with the other.

When I’d filled the bottle, I emptied the rest of my bladder down the loo.

I trotted back to the receptionist, through the very crowded open-plan waiting area clutching my wee bottle.

‘Right’, she said, when I popped it into an envelope.

‘Can you go with the nurse please. We need you to do a flow test’

‘A flow test?’, I said. ‘What with? I’ve just emptied my f*ckin bladder.’

‘Not to worry’, she said. ‘We’ll just fill you up again.’

So for the next 1.1/2 hours I joined a group of 5 other men all in the same situation – drinking glass after glass of water and walking up and down the corridor trying to stimulate a need to wee

(if they’d given me a pint of beer to drink I’d have been desperate for a pee within 10 minutes of finishing it)

Just then, someone punched me in the back.

‘Hi Dunc. You waiting tae dae a piss?’

Just my f*ckin’ luck. A bloody big Hospital. Hundreds of nurses. And I have to bump into the only nurse in the place that kens me.

We chatted for a bit. We hadn’t seen one another for a couple of months so we had a bit of news to catch up on.

‘You ready yet?’ she asked.

I said I’d give it a go. She led me to a room. Set the machine running and left me staring down at a funnel shaped receptacle.

When I’d finished, I opened the door and peered anxiously up the corridor. No sign of her. Good! As I made my way back to the waiting room she suddenly jumped out in front of me.

‘An’ whaur the hell dae ye think yur gaen, ma bonnie lad’ (She’s a fellow Scot – as if you hadn’t guessed)

”There’s yin mair thing ye hae tae dae afore ye see the doctor’

She linked her arm through mine and led me into another room.

‘Right’, she said. ‘I need tae check now to see how much wee you’ve got left in your bladder. So up you get on the bed and lower yur breeks

I loosened my belt and lowered my trousers – an inch.

‘Now, now, Dunc’, she said. ‘Nae need tae be shy wi’ me. A wee bit mair than that’

This was bloody embarrassing. I’ve known Liz for years, but not that close. I lowered my trousers a bit more.

‘C’mon, Dunc’, she said ‘Gie me a fighting chance’. She grabbed my trousers and yanked them down a bit more.

‘Don’t worry’, she said – a big grin on her face – ‘I won’t laugh!’

‘Bitch!’

‘Right’, she said. ‘It was a bit of a struggle but we got there in the end. I’m going to rub some gel on your tummy now so just relax and enjoy it. Not too much though, else you’ll embarrass us baith!

When she’d finished and I was ‘decent’ again, she linked her arm through mine again and led me to see the doctor. Just before she left me, she said –

‘Give my love to Anita. Tell her I’ll call in a couple of days. Oh, and tell her I never ‘peeked’

‘One last thing’, she said. ‘When you go in to see the doctor – mind your back!’

I could swear her shoulders were shaking with laughter as she walked off.

‘Fucken Bitch !!!’

Later, as the doctor stuck a finger up my arse, I recalled her final words and made a mental note to strike Liz off our Xmas card list this year !

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. December 28, 2009 3:11 pm

    Sounds like that visit was a bit akin to a trip to the torture chamber! All came out (haha) well, I assume?

    • December 29, 2009 5:23 pm

      Yup, medical opinion was the symptoms I’d presented with were simply a sign of age 😦

      – not going to win any speed pissing contest but not slow enough (yet) to be of clinical concern

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