Dec 22 2008
You can’t always get what you want
Ever wake up with the feeling that it’s just going to be “one of those days”? Me too …
… I tend to think that way because of the idiosyncratic mental, neurological and emotional wiring that riddles my cranium, but today felt different, as though an at best indifferent universe had decided to either pay me especial attention or to leave me altogether entirely alone to a capricious Fate.
It started when the 1006 bus did not materialise for what was - I was assured - a 50-odd minute journey to Epsom. The next bus, due 20 minutes later turned up on time and I thought I was cutting it fine to get to hospital by 1115, then lo! according to the timetable the journey was 20 minutes shorter than previously informed. Relaxing, I set on my way - time passed, slowly. By reaching the outskirts of Epsom, there was still plenty of time, I was reading “The Cheese Book” and all seemed right with the world. Then, out of the corner of mine eye, I saw a figure all in white striding past the bus - an apparition, perhaps? the result of caseinous over indulgence? - no, a man in full fencing gear …
Quite unrelated to this, ambulances, fire engines and police cars started rushing towards central Epsom, with only shoppers and a Christmas market to impede their & my progress … the 50-odd minutes seemed like a massive underestimate.
Somehow, mostly through the driver’s skill and the clear path left by the emergency vehicles, I made it to the hospital on time for an MRI scan of my spine. Bouncing backwards and forward between departments, I ended up only with having my right leg x-rayed and told to await results before my lumbar regions were committed to the scanner. I was also told that I could wait up to eight weeks for this to occur, even if the x-rays were clear. “Clear of what?” I hear you ask - bits of scrap steel is the answer. It appears that my shin’s ability to set off metal detectors at the Houses of Parliament, amusing in itself, may well have the same effect as placing a tin of something tasty into a microwave oven once within the sphere of influence of an MRI scanner.
Thereby hangs a cautionary tale of dubious scientific veracity. Reminds me of the Mental Health profession …
… whilst getting your heads around these thoughts, why not drop by my online gallery and buy some of my pictures?
