Saturday, 25 September 2010

Mr William 'weighs' in with both feet!

blood pressure measurementImage via Wikipedia
Spiffing light-hearted Saturday to you, dear reader,

I like to think of myself as a cautious sort of a bloke. I try to think before I speak, although sometimes my innate sense of tact and good taste go west and I say something those around me tell me I should regret. My daughter says I always make it obvious, if I find a lady attractive. She says something about my bottom lip trailing on the carpet and my eyes glazing over. I've never noticed it myself.

Anyway, what I mean is that I don't weigh in with both feet, if I can help it. I am just an old horse out to pasture. Say aah! I see and hear everything, but remember nothing...what was I saying. Yes, I have to write everything down. The other day, I lost another walking stick. Still can't work out how it got away, especially as I must have been leaning on it at the time. When I get the next one, I will have to train it like a dog. Then, it will come back when I call it and it might even fetch my slippers! As they say with dogs, there are no bad dogs, only bad owners. Clearly, I let my walking stick get 'out of hand'!

Meanwhile, a little admission, I have worrying about my health lately. Well, there is nothing in particular, but my doc, Iva Potion, keeps rattling on about cholesterol and blood pressure. So, there was I toddling round the shopping centre and I saw 2 machines, that purported to check everything including I reckon your e-mails, bank record and dental records. There was a lady on one machine and it asked her by automated voice and a touch screen to go through a series of checks. In a minute or so, she hopped off the scale and briskly walked off with a print-out. Show off, I thought, but how difficult can it be?

Well, you probably know by now that machines and I  just don't get on. Don't start me on the ones in food halls. I and a particular machine have mutually agreed to a 200 metre exclusion zone for our mutual safety! Anyway, I stick my coin in the 'healthcheck' machine and stand on the scale. Nothing happens. It didn't speak at all. Maybe, it was out in sympathy with the one in the foodhall? Anyway, it started to show info like my weight and height, then it asked me if I was a man or a woman. Well, I don't whether it was the shock of the question or the crowds who were milling around, nosily looking over my shoulder(Why is everybody so nosy? You'd never catch me doing that. Well, you wouldn't catch me!) but I pressed the 'woman' icon!

Not only did people start giggling behind me, but the machine said, 'Madam, you are either 10 months' pregnant with quods or you are morbidly obese and should consider a gastric band!' No, it didn't really, but that's how embarrassed I felt! Then, I pressed the 'male' icon to retrieve the situation, but it ignored that. I was fully expecting it to say, 'Make your mind up. We are an equal opportunities machine, but we haven't all day!'  Lastly, it said to put my arm in the sleeve to test my blood pressure.
Well, I don't know whether it was faulty or it was deliberately getting me back for the arguments with the foodhall machines, but the sleeve got tighter and tighter and wouldn't stop. I was in agony  and let out a yell. A security man pulled out the plug and released me. As I staggered away to the amusement of the bystanders, someone said, 'Sir, you've  forgotten the printout.'  I glanced at the readings through a mist  of giddiness. I said I was an '86 year old 10 month's pregnant woman, who is morbidly obese and with blood pressure that would kill an ox. It recommended I find the nearest ambulance!
Well, that's  it, I don't want to know anymore. I was healthy and happy before. Anyway, off to buy a new walking stick--an 'obedient' one!
Yours under pressure but light hearted

The Blogging Gogfather
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