This afternoon I went to King's Cross and paid a middle-aged woman hundreds of pounds to stick her finger up my arse. I also paid her to insult me and tell me just how overweight I am.
And after that I went for my medical. Ha ha, I am funny. That first bit was all part of the medical. At least I hope it was. I hope the doctor didn't look at me, think, "Phwoar, he's a bit of all right! I would love to stick my finger in his anus. But how can I make that happen? Wait! I'm a doctor. I will just pretend it's a medical procedure. Ha ha! I will be wearing his ringpiece as a ring within minutes. Better play it cool though and do a few proper examination first..... Mmmm I can't wait. Fat men's arseholes are what gets me going."
I hope that wasn't her internal monologue.
I had partly decided to pay for a medical because my local doctors had said I couldn't get an appointment until next week and because of my other commitments I would have to wait til next month. As it turned out this wasn't entirely accurate as I later discovered that you can go in at 7am and wait and you should get seen. But it's partly my fault as I was a bit British about it and didn't say, "Actually my chest hurts, could I get seen earlier than that."
But also I wanted a general overhaul and to find out if everything was working OK. I wasn't that bothered about how my arsehole was doing- it seems to be working fine and I let it get on with it's awful job without thinking too much about it- but I have been pushing myself hard over the last year and been willfully and stupidly unhealthy on tour so it would be good to get a clean bill of health. And the chest/shoulder pain was hopefully a result of lugging around boxes of programmes and buckets of coins.
I had gone with a popular healthcare company,though I am not a member, but they could see me quickly. Annoyingly though the woman on the phone had told me I should only eat plain food beforehand when in fact I should have been fasting, which means some of my results are not reliable anyway.
The good news is I have the lungs of a 31 year old ( and he is furious about it etc) and as long as your lungs are working nothing else matters. I am probably not diabetic, but having eaten some toast it's impossible to say. My eyesight is pretty good (though I couldn't read some of the tiny letters on one side of the machine) and surprisingly my hearing is good. I thought I was a bit deaf and certainly find it hard to hear people when in a noisy bar. But maybe that's normal. The test was also a bit skewed by the fact the girl doing it kept coughing, which was a bit distracting when trying to discern beeps of different volumes and frequencies being played into your ears. I would say she needs to randomise her technique a bit as it was fairly uniform. Maybe I cheated my way through that test a bit like I did with my knots badge in cubs.
I hope my akela will not be rushing round to my house to take that badge back now. But the scout who tested me realised I was useless and said, "We will just say you did it and if anyone asks you to do them again, just say you forgot."
I am, as I realised, very overweight and now as a 42 year old man this gets stern looks from doctors rather than the wry, "naughty boy" smile it used to elicit. If only I had come in in August 2008 I would have impressed them all with my uber fitness. Damn that Tim Key for cracking my rib. It's all his fault.
I need some more tests for the other stuff, which is how I discovered that I could have got an appointment at my doctors after all. But don't think it's anything to worry about. Well not for you, you're fine.
Luckily I have prayed to Jesus and told him if He makes everything OK I will not only definitely believe in Him, but will also only be healthy from now on in. I am sure He will respect me for that. And not remember that I made more or less the same deal 15 years ago when I thought I might have testicular cancer. He's got a lot on his plate so can't be expected to remember every detail.
The doctor was worried I might put her in a comedy sketch, but also started telling me about one time when some results had been mixed up and a notable figure was given the impression he had leukaemia. Which I wasn't sure was all that funny. Especially as I was hoping my results might be the right ones. But at least she ended up being immortalised as someone who enjoys inserting her finger into dirty anuses, so she should be happy now.
