Sean's Stories

Posted by sean on December 5, 2018 at 12:48 am in Health with No Comments


I had my second hospital appointment of my annual leave today. While last week, I only had to go round the corner, this morning required a trip all the way to the Bristol Royal Infirmary. Bloody hell…

Upon arrival, I checked myself in with a helpful receptionist, who I managed to confuse by trying to convince that my name was, in fact, Sean and not Jean, as was printed on the appointment letter.

I was shown, along with Jean, to a very busy waiting room. A large whiteboard, with the names of various clinical staff, hung from the wall.

Coloured dots were stuck to the board, presumably to indicate any delays. Green for “Everything is okay”; yellow meaning “You’re going to be waiting a while. Best pick up a That’s Life magazine from the hospital shop”; with red representing “F**k! We’re on fire! An escaped lion is on the loose! Clinic is cancelled”.

I was reassured to see that, despite the vast amount of fellow outpatients occupying the waiting room, all the dots on the whiteboard were green. My confidence that I would be seen and home in time for lunch was shattered, when I realised that yesterday’s date was still written on the board. Surely all these poor patients hadn’t been waiting overnight?

50 minutes later, I was the only patient left. I was just about to switch all the green dots for red, when I was finally summoned into the doctor’s office.

All was going well, until I was asked to list all the medication I have been prescribed. I take so many pills, on a daily basis, that if you were to pick me up and shake me, I would rattle.

Therefore, given the fact I pop rather a lot of pills, I had a tough job in remembering everything I took. Claire was a great help, as we both kept shouting out the names of various drugs, as if we were on a strange edition of The Generation Game.

I escaped the consulting room and the clinic, but not before providing a blood sample. This time, instead of using a needle, my blood was taken by cutting the rear of my earlobe with a scaple. It’s amazing how much you bleed from that area, and gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “wet behind the ears”.

On the way back to the car park, I couldn’t help but enjoy some naughtyness in the hospital elevator. The child (as well as Leeds and Bath City fan) in me, had great fun, as the video below will testify…

Leave a Reply

No trackbacks yet.

Posts with similar tags

No post with similar tags yet.

Posts in similar categories

  • About Me

    So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?

    If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.

    However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.

    You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.

    All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
  • Archives