The great health test.

This morning is a morning of hospitals, but thankfully not for me.

Various friends and family are trotting off to different pongy corridored venues around the country to be poked, prodded, lubed up, anaesthetised, shaved and generally humiliated. I’m not going to go into details as certain friends wouldn’t appreciate their inner workings being discussed with the wider world, but I’ll let you in on one of them which I think is quite amusing.

As part of his ‘I’m a very important vice president’ act, Steve qualifies for some top notch insurance cover. Presumably because someone who works so hard is more likely to suffer from stress, high blood pressure, be at higher risk from heart problems, depression, anxiety etc. Joy!

Getting this cover involves going for a 3 hour, top to bottom, thorough health check where he’ll have his chest shaved for an ECG, have to jog on a treadmill for a mile to monitor heart rate and vital organs, have cholesterol levels taken, blood pressure, heart rate, the list goes on.

This of course is a great opportunity to be given a clean bill of health- as I’m always someone who worries about the possibility of things which could be wrong, but go unknown, lingering away.

To add to the list of 50 tests which Steve is being subjected to, I’ve asked him whether they can do a couple more, just for good measure:

1) Test his hearing

I’m convinced his ears are blocked, or somehow damaged. His stock response to every single thing I say is ‘Ey?’. If the test comes back clear I’ll know that it’s merely a case of him attempting to block out some of the white noise that is my incessant jibber jabber and I’ll then have a god given right to get really fed up when he’s not listening

2) Test him for adult onset diabetes

One of the symptoms of which is a continuous urge to go for a wee. CONTINUOUSLY. Until now I’d tried to put this down to OCD behaviour, but whilst they are testing, they might as well tick this one off the list. It might make for a better nights kip if they uncover anything.

3) Test his horrendous short term memory recall.

It’s atrocious. He’ll ask how my day went, listen to the answer, and then ask me again 3 minutes later. But maybe this is related to number 1) in that either he’s not listening, or he suffers from a terrible ear affliction, OR, he simply isn't interested. Not possible.

I’m secretly hoping one of the tests he has to have involves him having a finger poked up his bottom to check out his prostate gland- does that make me a sicko, or merely someone who is a great believer in the phrase, ‘what goes around, comes around’.