Just to prove that I do know which is the sharp end of a power drill. Three holes plugged, and screwed – all before breakfast, and without the aid of a safety net!
Steamed (Dolphin friendly) Skipjack tuna….. Sounds good, huh?
We spoil that cat . . . .
It started the moment I arrived at the hospital, this morning. Metropolitan hospitals do have a strangely Science Fiction feel to them, featuring large numbers of lost souls tramping interminable corridors. When I reached my designated ‘waiting area’ (that’s why we’re called ‘patients’) it was the usual ordered chaos of hurrying over-worked medical staff, Sellotaped posters, and people fiddling with their phones in front of huge signs informing everyone that under no circumstances should mobile devices be used within the hospital. The salient Schwarzenegger feature was the windows, which had been covered from the outside with a mural showing a lake– a ‘faux view’ not unlike the one we see in Arnie’s apartment in the early part of Total Recall.
Unfortunately when my name was called, I remembered another part of the film, which I would more than likely be re-enacting – – the one where our hero rummages around inside his nose in order to remove a large object with the help of a large pair of sci-fi pliers. On the positive side, it was the consultant who did the ‘nasal exploring’ and more importantly, the device inserted into my nostrils was a thin optic fibre, and no objects were discovered or removed in the making of this film. However it made me think, why would anybody spend years training to be a doctor and then specialise in examining the volcanic contents of people’s noses – – – a job usually done by the individuals whilst in traffic jams on their daily commute?! I understand the altruistic desire to help people in an Albert Schweitzer/Good Samaritan sort of way – but the Job Description must surely skip over the gory details . . ah well, each to his own.