A bum deal

My physio appointment for yesterday was cancelled, so I made a visit to the Doctors for a menschen TÜV instead – a sort of human MOT for the over 40’s. The doctor gives you a general lookover, and then checks your lungs, heart and blood. I have my blood checked every 6 months because of my knackered thyroid gland. I don’t like needles, but I am used to that now. The ECG contraption for the heart check was fun, and my lungs still seem to be functioning ok.

He mentioned that perhaps he should check my prostrate gland. This set bells off ringing distantly in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t alarmed. The doctor then explained what the procedure involved. I was now alarmed, and had to politely postpone this check to another date in the future. For as I explained to the Doctor, Mrs Haddock had cooked a rather hot Thai Curry the night before, and poking around in certain places was probably not the safest thing to do.

My Doctor did mention several times that I should do more exercise. He rejected my idea of drinking beer out of bigger and therefore heavier glasses as a sensible form of exercise. He was at least polite enough not to refer to me as Lard Boy or Porky, but did suggest that I join a fitness studio. So this is what I shall be doing in the New Year. But before I visit a gym there is Christmas to contend with, and I am going back to England for the event. I shall feast and drink of England’s finest, - fish & chips, pork pies, pickled eggs etc – all washed down by pints of crap lager.

I’ll then be ready to strut my stuff in the fitness studio, and maybe have that prostrate checked as well.