I know that I sometimes weird people out with my sense of
humour. It's rare that the boot ends up on the other foot.
It was at the doctor's surgery, where I turned up bright,
fresh and starving first thing in the morning for a fasting blood test. Not a
thing had touched my lips for 12 hours, and the weird factor was high.
After prodding around at my left arm, the nurse declared
that she couldn't find a vein (not for the first time, either), and would move
to the right.
"That's because it's my robot arm," I said,
apropos of a quick laugh.
"Like Luke Skywalker?" she asked, "Lose it in
a light sabre accident? I see that a lot."
I agreed that bizarre light sabre accidents were An Actual
Thing in Fleet as I ignored the fact that she was removing a quantity of blood
from my body.
"And have you brought a urine sample?"
"Why yes," I replied, "Although I cut out the
middle man. That's just lager."
"I'll look forward to drinking it later."
Excuses, fled.
2 comments:
You know when you've been pwnd.
Ha!
Out Scary-ducked!
That sounds like my bedside manner! So much so that the Provincial College of Physicians and Surgeons no longer bothers to keep a file of the complaints lodged against me.
"......I turned up bright, fresh and starving first thing in the morning for a fasting blood test......."
Blood test? I don't believe a word of it. A prescribed 12 hour fasting can only mean one thing at the NHS - 50 kilos of video-enabled cold, hard steel shoved so far up your fundament they'll be able to tell if you flossed recently.
Don't kid a kidder, Scary.
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