… the phrase ‘that’s a lovely view of the bowel there as this lady is so slim’ is not one of the classics to be treasured all one’s life but I will take what I can get these days. I was in Bigtown Hospital being used as target practice by a trainee sonographer as they hunted down my on-again off-again Brompton-induced* paraumbilical hernia. I didn’t get to see the lovely view of my bowel, but I did get to see the (tiny) hernia although, unlike babies, you don’t get a photo to take home and post on Facebook for all to see, as I’m sure you’re all delighted to hear. I will now wait for the diagnosis to grind back through the system and turn into an appointment with a man (or woman) with a knife, assuming they think a minor case of Brompton belly (as I am now officially renaming my complaint) is worth repairing. It’s all go on the minor injuries front here, I tell you.
Meanwhile, I’m not the only one on the waiting list – with the arrival (until today anyway) of the big yellow thing in the sky, cycling has become so popular in Bigtown that you can’t get a bike serviced for love nor money until ooh, I could fit you in back of next week at the earliest. This is awkward as we’re off for a jaunt to the Netherlands this weekend and my bike’s gear changes had become decidedly random, while its brakes were heading towards the ‘advisory only’ category. In the end I managed to guilt trip my second favourite bike shop owner into at least replacing the rear brake pads while I was in my yoga class (he’s right next door to the studio). As I came out feeling all bendy and relaxed (and well-rested – does anyone else just nod off during naptime, sorry the meditation session, at the end?) I went round to see how the patient was doing. ‘Your gear changes were shocking,’ he said. ‘I’ve put in a new gear cable as well and at least it’s indexing properly again.’ He then charged me a massive ten quid. Which is almost as good a deal as the NHS.
* The surgeon pooh-poohed my suggestion that it was caused by me attempting to lift the Brompton up one flight of stairs too many, but this is only because he’s never carried a Brompton up to a third floor Edinburgh tenement about a million times in a weekend.
Town Mouse 
Your”Brompton belly” could become an actual syndrome. There’s one called “texter’s thumb” — an overuse malady, And carpal tunnel syndrome is now more common among guitarists than fiddlers and pianists.
Sorry to hear of your hernia. Been there, done that. More than once.
At least they’re getting you in expeditiously to get it stitched up, I was scared of going under the knife until it just bothered me to the point of distraction. Good luck, and enjoy the jaunt to The Netherlands.
If you change gear at all in the Netherlands let me know…I’ll eat my hat.
WOL – my place in the medical textbooks awaits
Bob – well, we’re not at the stitching it up stage yet. We’ll see how long that one takes to work its way through the system
BallsofWool – it was more my brakes I was worried about. All those cyclists, clogging up the bike lanes
£10 for your repair! – a new gear cable costs that by itself (no doubt those that buy the £20 & £30 variants of gear shift cables will be along in a minute to tell you your £10-all-in repair is wrong)
[…] I’ve mentioned before I have what I thought was a Brompton-induced hernia, although my mother now informs me that she and both her siblings had exactly the same thing, so […]