Posted by sean on June 17, 2019 at 8:45 pm in Health with No Comments


I now understand when people say that they have suffered from Stockholm Syndrome. I have it. My SS involves hospitals.

I’ve been in and out of the damn things throughout my life, unfortunately a lot more in the last two years. As a result, there are now aspects of my visits which I have become accustomed to and in one case, even enjoy!

Before I continue, I will say that my hospital Stockholm Syndrome is yet to extend to stays as an inpatient. I still detest every second of THAT kind of hospital encounter and am only able to compare my time as an inpatient to that of a prison inmate. Not that I have ever been to prison, but I haven’t been held hostage in a Swedish bank robbery either.

One thing my frequent medical appointments have forced me to grow accustomed to are injections. It would be no exaggeration to say that I once had a needle phobia. I hated and was scared stiff of the things. However, I was once placed in a situation whereby, it was a simple case of “let me stick these sharp, pointy things into your arm, or die”.

The more jabs I received, the less scared I became – up until the stage where I now tolerate a nurse stabbing me with a needle. I do wonder that if someone was to put a bird-eating spider down my shirt, every day for a year, I may grow to love arachnids, like I do my pet rabbit. There is also a risk that I would die of a heart attack by Day 2, or murder the bastard putting the creature down my shirt… on Day 1.

I would never go as far to say I like getting injected, but who does? Jimmy Corkhill maybe – a crack addict from Brookside in the mid-1990s.

The second aspects of medical treatment I can now tolerate is x rays and scans. I would even go as far to say that these can be enjoyable.

As I write this blog post, I am in the waiting area of a fracture clinic. I will hopefully get to see a consultant soon, as it would be nice to get home, plus it smells like one or two of my fellow outpatients, in the overcrowded room, lack personal hygiene and a can of Lynx Africa.

I have recently returned from having an x ray. What bliss! What a strange to say, I know you are thinking. Whatever way you look at that statement, you would be correct to think that.

The reason I enjoyed getting my bones photographed, is because it allowed me to lie down during the procedure. After almost a full day at work, getting onto a bed (however uncomfortable) is always welcome.

I led back, head on the pillow, eyes closed, my mind and body in harmony. The relaxation was only occasionally broken, when I was required to move my limbs into a new position, for the radiographer to take a suitable image.

I was disappointed that this time, it was only a brief photoshoot, so only got a small rest. In the past I have almost had a little nap! Indeed, during one particularly lengthy MRI scan, I did fall asleep. I was awoken by my own body, inadvertently jumping for some reason – most likely because I was lying down in what can best be described as a futuristic coffin, placed in an excessively loud building site. Claire always tells me that I have a gift of being able to fall asleep easily. I guess she may have a point.

I am currently wrapping up this blog at home – some 3 hours after I started writing it in the BO Waiting Room. Somewhere between paragraphs 9 and 10, I was summoned into the consulting room to see the doctor…

The good news – following the operation in January, everything has healed well and they don’t need to see me again.

The bad news – this means no more afternoon naps in the radiology department.

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