…just an unpleasantly high one.
I had another colonoscopy list earlier in the week. This one had only a few patients booked on it, and was run at a more relaxed pace. Less profitable for me, but definitely less stressful.
The proceduralist was a gastroenterologist rather than a surgeon, and we had two nurses in theatre with us, one elderly lady and a younger woman. During one of the long breaks between cases, I scoped out the staff room while having a coffee. There was a poster on the wall with the names of all the staff and when their birthdays were. I looked at July and there were two names there, including Jenny who was born on the 25th, like me. When I got back to theatre, I asked the older woman when her birthday was. I’m terrible with names and thought that she was Jenny but I could have been wrong. She looked surprised but confirmed it was 25th July and asked me why I asked, so I explained about the poster in the tea room and that we shared a birthday. Then she asked me what year I was born. I was horrified. Who asks that question of people they don’t know, and in public, besides? Anyway, I fessed up and she said “Me too!” I couldn’t believe it. She was talking about our big birthday next year and how she was looking forward to her gold card and pension in a few years time. Mercifully, our next patient was ready then and we could get on with the list.
I’ve been toying with the idea of a facelift in a few years time but maybe I should bring the date forward? Why oh why have I eschewed Botox for all these years??