A number of years ago a team of medical experts placed a camera in my anus to search for the source of my intense abdominal pain. They didn’t find anything.
A few years later they were back to search again. Afterward, the main doc was coming around to each of the examinees in turn, telling people they’ll have to come back for more tests, etc.. When he came to me he said “we didn’t find the possible source to your symptoms,” before adding lest I feel dejected, “…we found a polyp!” in an almost cheery manner.
It reminded me of that scene in Life Of Brian when a group of ‘terrorists’ hid in a small house and a full garrison of Roman soldiers marched in to search for them. They didn’t find anything, then left. A little while later they returned because there was some place they forgot to check. Following the lengthy entrance and exit, the garrison leader was expecting a positive find, but instead was informed “we found this spoon, sir!”
I do enjoy it when often totally unrelated events or circumstances remind me of something from a movie or book or painting or whatever.
My car (the one Mrs. Rumm usually drives) was due for the National Car Test the other week at 11 am.. I should have brought this up sooner on here because it is a good tale, but to be honest it has taken until now for me to calm down enough to be able to recount it:
The test was to be conducted in Blarney, which meant I would have to leave by 10:15 at the very latest if I was to be on time.
If you’re like me this proffers an immediate dilemma: What to do for the morning beforehand? I realise some amongst you (usually women with five kids, three jobs and a law degree) would have no problem working through half a dozen tasks or more, but I’m a procrastinating idiot so none of that was really an option.