I mentioned before on this blog problems I sometimes have with getting to toilet facilities quick enough. My condition dictates that when I’ve gorra pee I’ve gorra pee. I also mentioned I had recently had a CT scan. One of the preliminary procedures is drinking a pint of liquid to enhance the images. The literature supplied with this liquid states “you may experience loose bowel movements this should pass within a few days” This statement must have been written by the worlds most optimistic estate agent because it kept me confined in the smallest room for a good few hours. On the day of the scan a further 1ltr of another enhancing chemical is drunk and you are advised to drink plenty of fluids following the scan to clear the toxins from your system. This was fine until it became time to visit my youngest daughter and her family for a meal in Sutton Coldfield (proper name dropper me). I planned it down to the minuet which was fine until we arrived at Scot Arms the busiest road junction in the midlands when we were told by this police officer who I swear was no older than 13 that Queslet Road was closed due to an incident. The cop was not local because when I quizzed him on alternative routes he looked at me with that blank face which was saying “what planet is this guy on I’m only stopping the traffic”. Being local a plan B was quickly devised but by this time the junction was totally snarled up. Moron of the month, dope of the day, wanker of the week etc were all there doing their best to screw things up. We decided to take a diversion past our local swimming baths because by this time my waterworks were somewhat uncomfortable (same estate agent must have written that). The traffic by this time was screwed up for a couple of miles around the junction so by the time I got there a quick dash across the car park was the only way. I was followed in by some ghoul who wanted to see what I was doing. The Great Barr flasher was happy to oblige.
When we finally get to the restaurant I again have to visit the gents. Getting my aim right these days for a urinal can sometimes take a few minutes. On Saturday I’m aimed and ready to go when the guy behind started the hand drier. This was one of those high pressure things that make a lot of noise. I will admit to being somewhat startled by this (same estate agent)and subsequently sprayed the wall a nice shade of yellow.
The incident turned out to be a false alarm bomb scare. Scared me I can tell you.
Better not show this to the editor in chief. She was not a happy bunny on Saturday evening.