Dreadful Thoughts and Dreams of a Chaotic Pisckie Priest in the West of Scotland
Thursday, 23 July 2009
Was at The Vale hospital today to get my blood checked. The young nurse was calling me "dear" and "precious", and other such terms of endearment. I was quite taken aback by this, and thought that perhaps she might fancy me? On reflection, I was being spoken to like an old man, in the same way that I hear in geriatric units and care homes. Yes, I'm getting old, and look old to the young folk out there. Maybe they'll call me "darling" when they teach me to use my zimmer!