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[ 4 and a half minute read ]
Barcode on the radiologist
In the hospital, there were a lot of people in the corridors, almost as though there was a sale going on that everyone else knew about, but not me. I had arrived at the outpatients entrance in a mood of over-exertion to be amusing. I knew this when I found myself re-interpreting hospital signs and spoken words. The sign above the door said 'Outpatients Entrance'; do they, I thought. As I entered, I heard a mother say to her daughter. 'You are naturally going to crash.' That isn't very encouraging, I thought.
In the X-ray department
'You are all checked in now.' smiled the young receptionist. Whenever I encounter a young female, smiling, receptionist I get a flashback to the film 'Total Recall' with Arnold Schwarzenegger as the tourist to Mars. I kind of expect the woman to sink down behind the desk or something, her job done.
'Should I just sit on one of the green chairs over there?' I asked, gesturing to two rows of lime-green coloured chairs that could seat about forty people but were taken by only three.
'As long as nobody is already sitting there,' she said to my back. I turned to see her smiling at her own joke. I smiled back, and wished I could order a box set of her; my sense of humour.
Things really haven't been normal lately; there was a man talking to his wife and they were laughing. Once I sat down, I noticed a sign that said, 'All Gender Changing Rooms'. It was only the word 'All' that saved it from ridicule, but I entertained the notion, and with that acceptance the sign that said 'Changing Places Room' just sent me into a soft imagination of going into the room and walking out of it somewhere else. I used to watch Star Trek spin-offs and so teleporting is completely normal to me; except it isn't, normal to me, that is.
I was called forty minutes before my appointment. Fortunately, I knew they were going to do that which is why I checked in forty five minutes early. However, their devious trickery did not fade there. the radiologist stated that I was there for an X-ray on my RIGHT knee and LEFT elbow, and waited for my confirmation sure that I would nod and say, 'yes'.
'No, my LEFT knee and RIGHT elbow.'
'What's your date of birth? Okay, right.' Puzzlement crossed her forehead. 'Where do you come from?'
I started to feel uneasy and wanted to ask, 'Who are you?' and check to see if she had a barcode on her or something to identify which country had manufactured her. 'I am from here.' I guardedly answered. I wasn't sure if she knew where we were and didn't want to give her any clues. 'Local.' I added.
'What is the first line of your address?' she asked. Now, this is the second question I expected to be asked to check my identity so I recognised that she might actually work there, and because the hospital is a University Hospital, might still be learning, so I told her.
I had to show her and the silent man behind the perspex screen the swelling on my knee and elbow before they were sure which arm and leg to X-ray. The young woman who probably didn't have a barcode stuck to her, after all, told me that they will X-ray each limb. Fine by me. I don't understand how radiation affects DNA.
The man behind the screen vetoed that, and only two photos of my knee and two of my elbow were taken. The X-ray camera moved around with stepper motors like a robot in a car manufacturing factory, but I was instead reminded of Tom Cruise hiding in a cellar in 'War of the Worlds', when the alien space ship sends in a camera on a goose-neck appendage. I carelessly observed out loud that the two radiology people would be obsolete in five years time, which made the silent man mumble something. Luckily, I have magic hearing that prevents me hearing spoken insults or slants, which is how the volume of his voice was attenuated. After a couple of minutes of nothing happening, they noticed me still sitting there, and surprised, told me I could go.
Outside
It was still raining outside and it made me want to emulate the wetness. Finding a suitable place to join in with dampening the ground in the city is really hard. I pedalled faster and overtook a couple on bicycles. Bingo. there were some bushes between the cycle path and a garden fence that would completely obscure me from the passing car occupants' horror of seeing me do my impression of the current weather, so I stopped. Right behind me I heard, 'Good idea. Let's shelter here under the trees.'
I had to wait for them to turn away so I could vanish silently behind the bushes. I couldn't see their expressions if they noticed me missing but I had to make sure they weren't looking for me before I miraculously re-appeared.
Certain that they must have noticed that I had been temporarily invisible, I told them about tomato plants and how they could be mistaken for blackberries in pies, to guide them away from their suspicions of any abhorrent behaviour.
The gent smiled at me as I rode away.