|Picture from here|
|Picture from here|
Anyway now you understand the linguistic differences you can appreciate that my selection of the picture of Bobby Ball to illustrate this post is very funny.
Right, back to business. In my last post I bored you with my trip to The Christie and my consultation with the doctor who looked just like Eddie Redmayne. Well Dr Eddie has been in touch and I'm pleased to report that over the next couple of weeks I'll be making trips to Manchester to have a variety tests to check my suitability for a clinical trial. So the ball is rolling.
One of the tests is a lung biopsy, which I am not looking forward to one little bit. However needs must. Also a couple of friends, who are in the know, have assured me that it's not that bad. However, if these friends are lying I will have my revenge. This will possibly involve the appearance of large and tasteless gnomes in their gardens. You know who you are and you have been warned.
So I'm bracing myself for the tests and the results and hoping like mad that I get on the trial, as the coughing and breathlessness continue ad sodding nauseam.
As if all this testing malarkey wasn't enough to be getting on with, last night I foolishly made a nod towards the twenty-first century and bought a modern mobile phone. What a palaver buying it was. The process seemed to take a thousand years and the young salesman was flummoxed by my total lack of interest in different types of phone (they all look completely bloody identical) and my blissful ignorance of all things technical. The other-half was with me (getting a phone too) and he is even more of a luddite than me. I've spent more exciting evenings cleaning out the cat's litter tray. Anyway the purchases were made and now two brand new phones are sitting on the kitchen table Neither of us has the heart to try to find out how to use them. I wonder if the litter tray needs cleaning.