30 June 2004

On Monday I had an appointment at the Throat, Nose and Ear Hospital in Kings Cross.

When I first received the letter summonsing me to attend, I didn't really read it... I just made a note in my diary "TNE hosp 1:30pm."

It was only on Monday when I actually arrived at the hospital and was trying to find where I needed to go that I read the letter properly. This was when I realised that the department I was supposed to be attending was called "ELECTROPHYSIO" (oh yes, too important for lower case to be used).

Electrophysio. All the images that word conjures up in my mind... and none of them have anything to do with my hearing.

It could be a promotional horror movie to show in special schools: "If you don't do your exercises, we'll be forced to unleash... Electrophysio."

I just have visions of Arnold Schwarzenegger meets Trish the school Physio. Face half ripped off, red eye flashing, in a starched clinical uniform with a hosptial name badge.

"Electrophysio. The new way round the problem of the NHS budget cuts. Stretches you over pointless, strange equipment for no explicable reason. Always has breath that smells of coffee. The only design floor is that being a cyberborg, it has a sense of compassion so stops pushing you when you start sweating blood. We are working to overcome this fault before putting them into mass production."

The first time I've ever giggled all the way through as hearing test.

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