Archive for the ‘Glasgow Royal Infirmary’ Category

‘Cabbage is very resilient. You can always trust a cabbage.’

November 30, 2018

Tremendously deep thoughts there from a programme I caught on the VICE Channel about the changes for young people in Romania since the end of the Communist regime. Yes. I do need to get out more. Yes. I do. 😀

And so dear listener, as far as I am concerned there is only one story in town this week. I had an MRI scan at the Glasgow Royal Infirmary. For new listeners, here’s a quick re-cap.

2018 has not been a good year for me and it’s not that long until the Annual Blog Personality of the Year Awards and I’m struggling to find enough events to talk about. The year started with a heart scare/event/whatever and that’s why I was sent for the MRI scan.

And the Royal Infirmary, for those who don’t know it, is in the oldest and most historical part of Glasgow next to the graveyard – the Necropolis, which is the ‘dead centre’ of town – and up from where Duke Street Prison used to be with its last hanging in 1928 but when the wind blows from the West you can still hear the Gallows thud – and, well, you get the picture.

Told you it would be quick. 😉

Anyway, it started simply enough. I took the train into town and a taxi from the station up to the Royal. I could have walked but it was Thursday and it was wet and windy. I didn’t want to arrive ruffled. 😦

And I was dropped off at the Queen Elizabeth Entrance and that’s where it all went Pete Tong, didn’t it? I did ask where the MRI Department is, but once I’m past that WH Smith I’m lost. So a man saw that I was lost and pointed out that if I followed the green band on the wall – the one that said if you want the MRI Department follow the green band – I’d find it and I found it.

And then rub me down with the entire contents of a jar of warm molasses if I didn’t see that guy again, asking someone else for directions, himself. I turned my head so he didn’t see my smirk. 😉

A young man (James) came out to ask questions of me. I think he skipped on the section about whether I was pregnant. I’m not, anyway.

But he did ask me whether I’d had a tattoo recently to which I said ‘No, but I had considered it but I’d probably left it too late.’ To which he said, ‘There was a 93 year old lady in a few days ago and she had just had one done.’

Mmmmmmm, food for thought or what? 😉

Anyway, James took away my CD to play (The Pistol Annies) but he came back and gave me instructions about what was going to happen. Basically, for me, an ECG was plugged up to my heart and a heavy thing was laid across me – not that I planned to run away – and I entered the coffin. ‘Cos that’s what it feels like to me – a roomy coffin – and once I was in I was given breathing exercises to do. As if I planned to stop breathing?

And my mindfulness training came back to me and I didn’t panic altho’ I may have had a tear in my eye as Christmases past floated past. 🙂

And then I was done. Now I have no idea whether I was taken on time, how long I was in for or anything like that. About an hour? It’s a hospital. It’s full of sick people. They don’t keep to time. And it’s the NHS staff who deal brilliantly with each individual they work with – as do everyone who works in social care. We deal with people – not Key Performance Indicators.

(Wee reminder there of the initial fall out with a member of management that ultimately led to my demise and depression)

But I was done and I could go. I asked again for the Way Out and was given directions. I turned a corner and looked puzzled and a member of staff asked if I was looking for the Way Out and pointed at a door which opened automatically. She cackled and I left the building.

I went through it and ruffle me truffles with a jar of warm fromage frais that’s been roasting on someone’s chestnuts.

It was as if I’d walked straight into the Necropolis itself. Was that the cadavers’ door I’d walked through – the short cut that meant the grave robbers could get the bodies while they were still warm? The wind blew and the rain cascaded and my grummets shrank with fear.

I ran. And ran past two men who said, ‘Looks like we got ourselves a live one here.’

And I ran. Past the Cathedral House Hotel which is the most haunted place in Glasgow.

And I ran. Past the Provand’s Lordship which is the oldest house in Glasgow….and the College Bar…..and, and, and……..I reached the railway station and caught the 1656 up the road and got home, safely, only to find that the binmen had not emptied my green bin but they’d emptied all the others in the street. Apart from that, it was all pretty uneventful. 😀 😀 😀

Toraidh, still wearing that badge and still keeping it simple (I could always post it)

Iaint850, whose latest ambition is to be ‘a vegan condom influencer on Instagram’. Go on, Google it, I dare you.

Here, for the second week in a row, is/are the Pistol Annies and Takin’ Pills.

Enjoy.