I have, once again, been on the receiving end of cruel family humour. Anyone who has a family will be familiar with just how hurtful they can be. Trust me, in my family, painful and embarrassing health issues are a constant source of entertainment.
Some of you may be aware I recently had a bit of a chest problem resulting in massive fits of coughing every time I walked, ran, ate, sang, talked or even breathed. So off I toddled for a chest X-ray – which wasn’t anything like as enjoyable as it sounds – and then on to the clinic.
I have to say I felt fine when I went in – which all went tits up when I had to start blowing into tubes and things and all my coughing came back. With added enthusiasm. They handed me my results and invited me to vacate the premises.
Escaping more or less intact – but with added coughing – I stuffed the results into my handbag and forgot all about them. As you do.
Out at lunch today, one of my family actually remembered I hadn’t been well and asked me how I got on. Having a mouthful at the time I yanked out the paperwork, passed it over and braced myself for excessive sympathy and concern.
The buggers fell about laughing.
I snatched my results back and did what I should have done in the first place which was read the damned thing.
I’d had a bit of trouble summoning the necessary puff but the nurse had assured me I was doing very well and not to worry.
She’d recommended a steroid spray and forbidden me to continue dosing myself with cold medicine as I tried to dry my perpetually runny nose because that made me so congested, I couldn’t swallow properly.
My lung report, therefore, was summarised with the immortal phrase:
GOOD BLOW – DIFFICULTY SWALLOWING.
Seriously – if anyone wants a new family I know where you can get one cheap.