After jumping ship from my old Doctors practice to my new one, I popped in this morning to make an appointment:"Hello" says I to the receptionist who is the spitting image of the lovely Coleen Nolan. "I registered with you last Wednesday and I was wondering if my medical records had come through yet?"
"Yes, they came through this morning"
"Great, can I make an appointment to see Dr Muircroft then please?"
The moment of truth. Time slows. Everything becomes like Bullet Time in The Matrix. Coleen reaches for the appointment book . . . . . I'm hanging on every syllable that pours like treacle from her perfectly formed tiny Irish lips . . . . .
"How does 9:20am tomorrow morning sound?"
Now at this point, I'm sure I said "I want to impregnate you with my lovechild, fair Coleen, and carry you off on the back of my motorbike to a land where we'll sing 'I'm In The Mood For Dancing' every day", but I think it came out something like "That's fine, I'll take it." Either way, with a bit of luck, my colon should be back to full working order in no time at all! Bring on the curry!
