Hello.
In my perusing of the newspaper this week, there were a couple of articles that caught my eye. Or rather, the headiness did but I didn’t follow up my interest by actually reading them. Ever the intrepid, inquisitive investigator, me. The first said that some smokers are genetically predisposed to smoke without health risks. Yay, hopefully that includes me! The second said that tall people are statistically more likely to have cancer in their lives. Boo, curse the gift that allows me to reach things on high shelves!
Oh, to be a stumpy non-smoker! Life would really be looking up then, and not only figuratively, due to the fact that I’d need to constantly crane my neck up to see what was going on.
But anyway. I also went to have a medical in Landan, innit mate. The good news is that after much prodding and extracting of fluids, the results came back positive: I’m still alive. You can imagine my relief.
It was strange though, I’ve never had a medical before, and so I didn’t really know what to expect. It didn’t start very well either because I managed to get lost in central Landan, innit mate and so arrived in the medical centre with high blood pressure from the mild-stress of thinking that I’d be late. I had literally nothing else to do all day, and having done the tourist thing of wandering along the streets of the dirty old town in an effort to kill a bit of time, there I was going to be late! Thankfully, due to my height, my long legs were able to chew up the distance quite quickly and I rolled in to the waiting room with 5 minutes to spare. Height truly is a gift and (apparently) a curse.
Another curious thing was the part of the exam which involved an old man cupping my testicles. Maybe it’s because I’m a square, but that never happens to me and I wasn’t really expecting it, and certainly not in a park before the actual exam had taken place. The man who popped out from behind a tree assured me that he had been sent by the doctor and that I was in safe hands (literally), so who was I to question him? A really on the ball (again, literally) medical centre, that one.
Boosted by the revelation that I’ll live forever (I’m paraphrasing), the rest of the day was really quite nice, lounging about, getting surprised by confident squirrels and taking loads of photos of basically the same things but from slightly different angles. It’d been years since I’d been there, but had quite a nice wee trip. That said, it was nice to come back to the relative comforts of my flat and bell’Italia. My time may be drawing to a close here, but in the grander scheme, I’ve still got a bit left in the tank. This is great news as there are still so many days that I want to trickle away while I sit about in my pants reading about football.
Speaking of which,
ciao!
