Prober becomes probee
Having honed my scrutiny skills over recent months (today is the five month anniversary of my election…), today I became the scrutinised one as I attended an occupational health session in order to be approved as fit and proper for a new job I hope to start. In the end I achieved a tick in the “Not likely to keel over and die at the first sign of work” box, but only after an 8am probing that I am not to keen to repeat.
I had never been to Occupational Health before, and was quite nervous that I would be prodded and jabbed by strange hands and cold bits of metal. I had worn a nice shirt, and when confronted with a nice nurse was actually not entirely uncomfortable with the thought of having to take it off. But in the end I didn’t even have to take off my overcoat. All they did was test my eyes (which seemed odd, since this is the only part of my body that is clearly malfunctioning and requires me to wear glasses the whole time…).
The nurse asked me a few questions about my health, including the romance-killing “have you ever had a urinary infection?” And then I was sent on my way. No needles, no beakers, no arm-squeezing. And on my way by 8.15.
Rick
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