The Irradiated Man
Another day, another procedure.
Yesterday it was the turn of the radiologists to get their hands on me. So off to a posh location in central London for my X-Ray.
As always seems to be the case, there was more form filling to be done, but little waiting this time ans I was rushed straight in to a darkened room by a matter-of-fact-old-school type nurse who stood me in front of something that looked like it had just been in the latest Star trek movie, told me to take my shirt off and stick my chin on the little rest.
She then positioned my hands on my hips (I thought I was about to do
The Time Warp ) and then retreated behind her lead-lined screen. A few seconds later, my upper body bombarded by radiation, she goes off to check the X-Ray is clear, before coming back and telling me it's all over.
I went to sign the form and then she handed my my passport with a big smile. Except it wasn't my passport. Ah.
So off she goes to find mine (suddenly my mind starts coming up with all sorts of possibilities, such as what if the person whose passport I have has mine and has left?) and returns after a minute with what is currently the most important document in my life.
Then it transpire that she has written the other guys details on my form, and only with my prompting does she put my passport number and name on my form, having scrubbed out the mystery man. So I hope this does not cause me any problems further down the line.
I pay my £40 and walk out again into the pleasantly warm afternoon.
Just waiting on my police checks now, then it's over to AHC for round 2.
Yesterday it was the turn of the radiologists to get their hands on me. So off to a posh location in central London for my X-Ray.
As always seems to be the case, there was more form filling to be done, but little waiting this time ans I was rushed straight in to a darkened room by a matter-of-fact-old-school type nurse who stood me in front of something that looked like it had just been in the latest Star trek movie, told me to take my shirt off and stick my chin on the little rest.
She then positioned my hands on my hips (I thought I was about to do
The Time Warp ) and then retreated behind her lead-lined screen. A few seconds later, my upper body bombarded by radiation, she goes off to check the X-Ray is clear, before coming back and telling me it's all over.
I went to sign the form and then she handed my my passport with a big smile. Except it wasn't my passport. Ah.
So off she goes to find mine (suddenly my mind starts coming up with all sorts of possibilities, such as what if the person whose passport I have has mine and has left?) and returns after a minute with what is currently the most important document in my life.
Then it transpire that she has written the other guys details on my form, and only with my prompting does she put my passport number and name on my form, having scrubbed out the mystery man. So I hope this does not cause me any problems further down the line.
I pay my £40 and walk out again into the pleasantly warm afternoon.
Just waiting on my police checks now, then it's over to AHC for round 2.
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