“Well…”, said Dr Death, as I sat before him in his private room, “I have some good news and some bad news.”
I visited him a couple of days ago, to find out the results from the numerous scans and tests that I’d had over the past few weeks. Unable to get the whole day off work, I’d had to leave early and travel down from Birmingham, hoping that the motorway traffic would be kind to me for a change and allow me to make good time, which, luckily, it did and I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare.
Knowing that I wouldn’t have time to go home first to shower and change, I had taken a flask of hot water, a towel and a change of clothes with me.
Arriving at the hospital, I reversed the car up against a line of trees in a semi-secluded part of the car park. Upon opening the boot though, I realised that although I’d brought the flask of water with me, the towel and change of clothes were still in the carrier bag… which I’d left by the front door that morning.
I had to do something though: I was a bit whiffy from working flat out all morning in order to get away early, and my feet had been stuck in a sweaty pair of safety boots all day.
Fortunately, I was wearing a vest underneath my polo shirt and so using that as a towel, I managed to give myself a half-decent wash behind the car. God knows what anybody would have thought if they’d seen me: stripped to the waist and barefoot, pouring the contents of a flask over myself. Anyway, it worked, because despite having to put the same clothes back on, I felt fresher and more confident as I sat myself down on the high-backed faux-leather chair in front of the consultant.
“I have some good news and some bad news”, he said, as his face developed a small frown “The bad news is that we can’t actually find anything wrong with your feet, so unfortunately we don’t know what is causing the pain that you are feeling”. He paused for a moment. “The good news”, he said, his face brightening, “is that as we can’t actually find anything wrong with your feet, the chances are, that whatever is causing you this pain, probably isn’t too serious.”
We discussed my options going forward… which pretty much boiled down to me having to put up with it.
And, after all that palaver in the car park, at no point did he ask to re-examine my hooves.