I
had hoped that life at 55 would be a long succession of beetle drives and
afternoon tea dances but alas, I’ve discovered this is simply not the case.
It
seems the only things filling up my social calendar these days are medical
appointments and so I find myself contemplating my latest lot of NHS letters
inviting me to get bowels, boobs and lady bits seen to. There have been more exploratory expeditions
to my nether regions in the past few years than there have been to the outer reaches
of the Mongolian Desert!
I
guess I should feel chuffed that I’m still young enough not to qualify for a
free bus pass yet old enough to meet the age requirements for both bowel cancer
screening (55) and mammograms (50). The days
of firkling about with a Davy lamp and handheld mirror in the bathroom trying
to locate lumps of the unexpected variety about my person are no more as the
NHS will now kindly do this for me for free.
Although
the thought of lying there with either my baps out or my arse in the air doesn’t
fill me with joy, it’s important to keep these appointments as you never know
when lumps of the unexpected variety may actually show up on your doorstep. Knowing my luck, it’ll probably be when I’m
busy on Ebay.
No comments:
Post a Comment