On Blood and Left Ventricles.

It was blood day today at the doc’s. The Senior Nurse took a sample of the stuff for examination and also checked my blood pressure four times. (I wonder what they do with the blood when they’ve finished examining it. I imagine they might use it to feed the vampires locked in a secret, government-controlled vault under the hospital complex, but that’s only because I’ve been watching Buffy lately instead of House. It’s what watching American TV series does to you, and it’s probably intentional.)

Anyway, there were two upshots to these seemingly innocuous procedures. The first was that my daily dosage of Amlodipine (anti-hypertension pills) was increased from 5mg to 10mg. I was reluctant to agree at first, but the nurse persuaded me. It’s interesting that I find it quite easy to tell male doctors where to get off, but I have great difficulty saying ‘no’ to a female nurse.

The second was that she mentioned in passing while reading my notes that I have an underperforming left ventricle. Well, that’s a nice thing to say to a man who’s still got a smidgeon of pride left, isn’t it. It sounds like a euphemism for impotence, for heaven’s sake. I said nothing, of course. The days when such a prospect would have mattered are long gone, so what would have been the point of talking about it? I’m reliably informed (by the young female radiographer who performed an ultrasound scan on the vital organ) that talking stimulates the heart, and I don’t suppose underperforming left ventricles like that very much.

And then it was off to see good old Doctor John to have the keratosis squirted. (Only doctors are allowed to do that, you know. It’s outside the remit of nurses, even senior ones. Seems a bit silly to me, but lots of things do.) I was hoping to have a chat with him about Laurel and Hardy again, but he was running forty minutes late and the place was heaving with patients – half of whom shouldn’t have been there according to the Senior Nurse – so I trudged back out into the pouring rain and called in at Poundland for a few supplies on the way home.

And that’s today’s exciting news so far (although I wonder what dreams may come when I have shuffled off… whatever you shuffle off when you go to sleep. Maybe I’ll get chased to the burning mill by the vengeful spirit of a keratosis, or find myself trapped, alone and bloodless, in the darkness of an underperforming left ventricle. We shall see.)