I meet the nurse who had screened me at Leighton hospital. Another nurse comes in, few pop in just to see who is in there, a bit of a steam- perhaps I'm a celebrity. Finally after blood pressure and another check list I am left to change into impossible gown but thankfully bought along my own dressing gown for cross ward forays. Once changed through to a waiting room, the nurse who had screened me had noted my needle phobia and that I would try to survive on gas and air ( don't I normally ?) Thoughtfully they have left me in a waiting room, a very nice lady in for an unknown procedure then gets the canula treatment, the nurse can't get it it and sets about a graphic running commentary and demonstration of how not to do it. I've made me friendly excuses to said lady opposite and apologise for closing my eyes and covering my face and agreeing it was better for me that it was her and not me getting the nurse in a spin. A few other people come in for a peep, an agency nurse arrives, deployed to tasks she then queries as she does things differently. Another nurse comes in I know her already from taking my details, she comments on me hiding away, getting thoroughly peed off now as everything happening it the exact opposite of what i had requested, I was on the point of getting my clothes together and walking out when it has seemingly become my hour of shame.
I knew what was involved but the gas pumped in soon started to give me cramp, I was really relaxed and the placebo gas and air a stupid addition, perhaps keeps people quiet ? I watched ( surprisingly for me) the 'action' on screen - some time had passed and then the German/Danish or Dutch doctor scores a goal for Paris St Germain, a polyp, action stations but the sheer hellish cramping becomes more than I can stand and after quietly ( screaming) expressing my emotions he withdraws and sulks robbed of his first grab. The retreat from Moscow leaves me tachycardic and much comforted by the sweet nurses who are genuinely concerned. Eventually my blood pressure comes back to earth. It was amazing that out of the chaos came a team, my state was soon becoming a popular break in the monotony, what would we do next, I was coming back to well-being, the escape of gas encouraged by everyone who comes in to reassure me, I oblige ( greatly). The doctor after regaining his calm comes through and lists the options, no deal Brexit, Norwegian mode... sorry listening to too much news. Mandy has been rung by the staff and appraised of the situation, she assures the staff that it was too bit expected, low pain threshold, men, who would have them.
So its pop in the ct scanner some time or make another appointment. The mood lifts when I declare ' lets go another round and get the needle in quick', I'd try it with real pain relief not gas and air - although I could now supply my own hospital gas storage. The doctor has hidden skills, the needle inserted without sight or feeling, the paper bag and hammer technique worked again, no not really he was a sweety under that Germanic coolness. Swiftly back, monitor on, passed on Coronation Street I wanted live Macclesfield hospital relay, I was sure it was going out in every ward. Straight back in, no extra gas required he knew his destination, polyp one out, then digging further than the Glasgow underground some more little blighters removed, victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. The thundering applause gets the young doctor embarrassed.
A telegram goes out to Mandy in the canteen, she catches the first flight back to endiscoptomy department waiting area, happy landing with tea and digestive biscuits. I doubt if the doc understands the importance of digestives in such a situation. Staff start a whip round for a plaque commemorating this proud moment in medical advancement. Somewhere along the line I gain oxygen up my nose, my body matches the gale blowing outside, messy isn't the word. I'm cordially invited to a rematch in three years, not really certain about the result, it gets lost in the euphoria, yes lots of little bits of me removed , well they could have become cancer. What noble and splendid preventative surgery this has been, how I blushed at the team as they took their bows and left for the next patient. By now I'm no longer welcome, its approaching dinner time, I have to be carefully in removal to the bathroom, there are still lady patients who would swoon at my posterior and balloon pumping air supply.
Safely removed I get rid of the detritus and cleanse myself, just to think early that day I thought the odour of Occitane Verbena shamp** ( sorry I couldn't say it) would make me feel better, rapidly getting through a supply of wipes and creep out suitably refurbished and assured once more that it was not I that made the mess, it was them. Mandy greets me and we beat a hurried farewell, waving to the matron and sisters and the ranks of misc staff agency or otherwise from the four corners of Cheshire, actually or possibly just Macclesfield. Care that was in a clean, friendly, caring environment, that like all mere British mortals a little confusion and muddling through had done the trick, I would have said the Dunkirk spirit but Brexit or perhaps Marmite spirit seems somehow appropriate.
So a quiet end to the day, no way, Mandy had us out to bank, building society, butchers, Booths supermarket - an urgent dash to stock up on Rhubarb gin etc. Reassured when I check my emails, the RNCM annual principles circle newsletter, there is a new name in charge of sponsorship, I think the last one was there a few hours, churn rate so dire that they are now recruiting at Macclesfield hospital for those made of sterner stuff. Always look on the bright side of life eh, Dave lives to film another day, the new dead cat microphone cover arrives and is fitted, wind shall have no dominion over my films, oh no how did we get back to that! Ending on a joyous note some more shots of Mandy, Sue and I with the lemurs in Madagascar a couple of weeks back, normal service resumes tomorrow.