Health
warning.
My scenic
excursions are due to be rudely interrupted shortly due to a medical procedure
on my lower bowel. Nothing to do with the firm ride of the 4/4 suspension I
hope - surely more likely to be due to changes to my diet and advancing years.
At the
RD&E hospital I was examined by a very kind consultant who explained the
procedure, donned disposable gloves and squinted up the junction using a sort
of viewing scope. That’s step one. Step two he explained, required a further
procedure to check beyond the U bend.
The routine final
procedure for removing said little bits of my bowel using a gun at point blank
range. Nothing to get too alarmed over – the gun is one that draws the
offending bit under suction up into the barrel and then slips a little rubber band
over the tip of the barrel. The band thus deployed, left in place so as to
restrict blood supply would soon drop away and be expelled along with the ugly
little sac that intruded just there.
I explained that I had already had nasal
polyps removed. “Wrong end - no
connection at all”. Great I thought that’s
all right then.
