So Hamish McHamish McTavish,our newish Scots triage nurse,who look and sounds not unlike Bluto, has decided that there is no reason I shouldn't be as unhappy as everyone else and is making a concerted effort to find me a date...
He scans the admission sheets of any suitable looking woman between the ages of 30 and 80 years, who are single and who have listed their mother as the 'next of kin' and tries to steer them my way.
Now leaving aside for the moment all of the ethical,moral and legal problems with his cunning plan,the simple fact is that what passes for intelligence,joie de vivre,beauty and having your own teeth in Scotland,clearly bears little resemblance to the rest of the world.
His latest "offering" came my way on Monday.
Look I don't mind dating a woman of 43 who wears a wig.
I don't mind dating a woman who is wider than she is taller.
I don't mind dating a woman who eats pickled onions for breakfast.
I don't mind dating a woman who works as the foot double for the Hobbit....and who has a foot injury which necessitates me examining her pale fat horny hairy foot, in which she has a total loss of sensation from a previous spine injury.
(She had pushed a full shopping trolley over her foot {2 days before she came to the Unit}, which then became bruised and swollen...and since she had the most complete lack of sensation I have ever seen,I had no choice but to x ray her foot....it wasn't broken)
"Okay....well your foot is fine...the swelling and bruising will settle down over the next few days...so...is there anything you want to ask then ?"
(I had seen the small red spot on her little toe during my initial examination,which indeed looked like a simple,uninfected chilblain.
Since she had no history of any peripheral vascular disease of any sort,particularly not Reynauds disease;or Lupus,or indeed even diabetes,I had no real concerns.)
"Well...just keep an eye on it...keep it warm...see what OTC products the pharmacist can sell you...and go and see your GP if it becomes infected...or your toe turns purple or falls off."
Oh okay...what about wearing warm socks...?
"Jah...thats a good idea...anything else then?" , I asked hopefully,standing up and shuffling some papers...
What about my urine...?
"What about your urine...?"
Well my mum always used to say that you should wee on your chilblains to keep them from getting worse...
"Uh huh..."
So...do you think I should wee on my toe...?
"Well...apart from the physical contortions required for you to be able to urinate on your little toe...and the mess it might make,-unless you're going to wee on your toe in the shower-,ummh...its probably not going to help at all..."
So you don't think I should wee on my toe then...?
"Look...far be it from me to stop you from engaging in some esoteric form of self expression...but can I just ask you...are you married or seeing anyone ?"
No...
"Do you want to be in a relationship with anyone ever?"
Yes...
"Then don't spend the long winter evening urinating on your toes..."
Okay...
"Invest in a home pedicure set,and maybe one day , your prince will come...well...maybe not your prince...probably just Bilbo Baggins..."
"what passes for intelligence,joie de vivre, beauty and having your own teeth in Scotland,clearly bears little resemblance to the rest of the world."
ReplyDeleteThat's why my wife is English.