With all this time on my hands I figured I may as well go and get this x-ray for my ankle.
I headed off to Ladbroke Grove with my bit of signed card from the doctor.
I was having a bad bad day, I was in a bad mood, I’d been crap and late at everything and my ankle hurt. It was one of those days when things seemed to be going wrong.
They let me in straight away and told me to sit down.
I needed to pee, so I went to the small toilet in the x-ray department. I went to wash my hands, the tap was one of those all in one style lever pull twist things. I turned the tap on, smiled at myself, I was genuinely expecting it to turn on too fast and splash out of the basin and onto my crotch, I was having a bad day. But nothing of the sort.
I finished rinsing the soapy lather and turned off the tap. Only I turned it the wrong way to full pelt. Yes. Crotch. Sodden.
I was called in for the xray, I had to embarrassingly hold my bag over me to hide my wetness.
I lay on the xray bed, the xrayer (I am using technical terminology, sorry for anyone who can’t keep up) that was to xrayify me into xrayification was a very old 50’s sci fi type thing. But I presumed it would still be safe, this is the NHS after all.
My ankle was placed on a plate (lead plate, and the rest of my body was attached, this wasn’t some sick banquet) and the machine was flicked on. The nurse went behind a screen. I got a bit scared, I haven’t had an xray for years, what happened?
I flinched and waited for the green laser ray to come shooting into my leg. The humming and whirring built to a climax, my hands gripped the bed for the…
…click
That was it, a fucking click.
And I have to wait a week until I find out if it’s been broken. Let me see the picture, I’d be able to tell pretty quickly and I’m not even a doctor. I’ve seen Casualty.