Better Safe Than Sorry

I'm having a gastroscopy Monday week. Yeah. Everybody tells me I'll like the drugs.

Good drugs, they say.

This is a medical procedure, I say.

That's when you get the best drugs, they say.

I can't help but think of Heath Ledger.

Secretly, I think they are right.

While my stomach is much, much better than it was and I couldn't say I was in any pain any longer, it still doesn't feel completely normal. It just feels weird and, not to put too finer point on it, I'm having, what I could only describe as, fishy gastric reflux. Mmmm. (Come here lover, smell my breath) Better safe than sorry, huh?

Apparently, there is a screen. Don't look at the screen, they say.

I can watch the thing go all the way down my throat to my stomach, up on a big screen.

I'll need drugs just for that, let me tell you.

It's been getting me down a bit, I have to say.

Charlie, at work, asked me if I'd ever had anything shoved down my throat, when talking about the forthcoming gastroscopy. Do you think he is flirting with me?