Mr Boom?
An odd looking nurse had popped her head around a door and was looking around the waiting room like a bewildered owl.
Here.
I raised a hand and tried not to cry myself a river of self-pity.
Would you like to come through?
Owler beckoned me to follow. I sighed in response and heaved myself to my feet. The answer was no, I didn't really fancy coming through. I was quite happy sitting in the waiting room at the hospital not knowing anything.
I most definitely did not want to follow this Donald Duck of a lady and be told things that I did not want to hear.
Coming.
I muttered half-heartedly.
Such was my burgeoning depression at what was to come, I couldn't even muster the energy to amuse myself by comparing Owler's boobs to firmly stuffed bags of shit.
I followed Owler, who refreshingly kept her hands to herself as she led me to a small darkened room. She couldn't contain herself at the end and patted me on the elbow, and I managed to half raise one eyebrow sadly at her pathetic attempt at some grief-play.
Alright buddy, have a wee seat.
Some fucking skinny wee guy that looked like a photograph of a twelve year old was sitting with gloved hands next to a bed. He smiled knowingly as if he had nefarious plans involving arse-meat and man-girl squeals.
I decided there and then that he was getting side-kicked.
There was a click behind me and I whipped my head around. Fucking hell, Owler herself had followed me in and closed the door.
I assessed my chances. True, I was a shell of a man through worry and fear but I still had my fucking ninja chops. These two blue-tunic-wearing clowns weren't going to take me down without a fight.
I would have to take out Owler first before she got one of her giant nostrils onto my eyeballs and sooked them out like she was having some delicious bubble tea.
I flexed my right hand, more commonly known as the Hand of Justice.
Things were about to get tasty.
Have a wee lie down on the bed, buddy, would you?
Photo-Man smiled and patted the bed.
I let out a defeated breath and lay down as directed. Maybe I would kill the pair of them after my scan. Yeah, I could be magnanimous. They could enjoy a few more fleeting moments of life.
So, we have a wee lump on our belly? Where is it?
Photo-Man acted like a normal person and not an NPC in the video game of my life in an ingratiating attempt at forging a bond with me so I didn't kill him with a deadly elbow.
Yeah, it is here.
I tried to project my voice, but it came out as a wobbly whine.
For the first time in my life, a man squirted some goo on my stomach. Fortunately, it was not hot and stinky of the fish.
Let me have a look. Oh, there we have it. That's it alright.
He paused and a million possibilities flew before my eyes. My eyes moistened at the thought of leaving this good earth behind.
I thought of the poor ex-girlfriends who would wail and nash their teeth at the news of my passing; no doubt they would probably get together and dig a mass grave so that they could set themselves on fire and topple in, in the hope that they could accompany me on my celestial journey.
Right, that is you. Nothing to worry about. Just a little fatty lump. No concern whatsoever. Good news eh? You can enjoy the rest of your day!
Photo-Man gave me a big roll of tissue to wipe myself down with and smiled, sensing that perhaps he had done enough for me not to pull his spine out and unblock a toilet with it.
Really? It's all good?
I croaked and wiped at myself like an old man trying to stop a seagull from eating his chips.
Owler helped me up gratuitously by the elbow.
Yes, these things are nothing to worry about.
She walked me to the door and shoo'ed me outside.
Go on, escape!
She laughed.
And escape I did.
Apologies chaps. I have not posted in a while and it is largely because I was spending the last few weeks of my life fretting that the party was over. But it's not. I'm alive, baby! HURRAH! Time for me to get back on the horse.
Note: Not a real horse. I can't abide the slimy things with their distrustful tongues
