In view of the George 'Dubya' and 'how to bath a cat' stories, I thought I'd
come clean with a perfectly true story of my own. The event in question took
place about three weeks ago.
I'd had a not very good night's sleep and resolved the only way to face the
day ahead was to hit the ground running. The first part of the early
morning, was to luxuriate and wallow in a hot bath and having shaved, there
was no reason why smarter than normal clothes should not be worn. I'm a bit
of an enthusiast for highly starched and well ironed shirts where these are
completed with a pleasing tie. After about twenty minutes, with well pressed
slacks, clean shoes, well-scrubbed and generally looking and feeling a lot
better than when I had got out of bed, I returned downstairs for a morning
of serious keyboarding.
As I sat in my chair in front of the screen to power up, I experienced the
most searing and agonising pain in my chest. It took my breath away and
immediately after the pain had passed, I actually thought, "well this is
what it's like to have a heart attack."
I almost panicked - but got very slowly out of my chair and with tiny steps
moved towards my armchair to have a rest and let the pain subside.
It didn't.
Every time I breathed, the pain returned, seariing in its intensity - and
frankly, terrifying me.
There came a knock at the door and after staggering towards it, my next door
neighbour, Bill (who is 82 and a great friend) stood in the porch.
"Good god - you look ghastly! Are you alright?"
"I think I've had a heart attack, Bill," I croaked
"Well, %%^^&& the ambulance, give me the keys to your car and I'm taking you
to Doctor (we share the same one) Of the fleet at my disposal, the 2000 was
the first in line and Bill gently helped me over to the car. Pain was
agonising. It always is when you think the worst, isn't it?
'Flossie' flew us to the surgery and immediately on arrival, I was put in a
wheelchair, had a rug thrown over my shoulders and was pushed ito the Duty
Nurse's consulting room. The doc was tied up with another patient. That
nurse stirs thoughts in my mind that I prefer not to reveal here and she
quickly but gently questioned me on the symptoms, the level of pain and
where it was. I pointed gently at my chest and she nodded.
"Well, I think what we'll do first of all is to remove your tie. Sit
absolutely still and let me do it all."
It's years since someone said that to me - and it certainly wasn't a nurse
in a doctor's surgery!
Another nurse had arrived and was rolling up my sleeve to do my blood
pressure and as the tie came out of my collar and te top button was undoe,
the fist nurse looked briefly at my chest, smled slightly and promptly
rushed into the Doctor's room.
He entered my room a moment later.
"Feeling a bit frightened old chap? Has the 'old ticker' fired a warning
shot across the bows?"
I nodded. "Think it has, Paul - it's agony."
He reached across to a small table, picked up a pair of scissors and then
advanced on my shirt.
"Don't cut the shirt, Paul." I protested feebly. "It's one of my
favourites."
"Hmm," - he snipped - and there was more pain. I yelped - a little.
"Now, breathe in a bit - but gently."
I did.
"A bit more."
"And a bit more"
"Now exhale and fill both your lungs as quickly as you can."
I did - and absolutely no pain!
I made noises of amazement and surprise. "It's gone. The pain's gone. What
was it?"
He stood back a little and gave me a odd look, smiling the while.
Nothing more than a little trim."
"Trim?!"
"Yes - you damned fool! Didn't you know you'd buttoned a tussock of chest
hair into your shirt button?"
I crawled out of that surgery in abject shame with my tail fully between my
legs and te car rug over my head in case I was recognised.
Bill tells me he's dined out on the story three times already - and I
wouldn't be surprised if the Doc's done the same.
Jonmac
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