well, mostly blue, look you see. i suppose if one were to take a ruler, or similar, to it there may well be as much white as there is blue to this. the address and what have you is in black, which would seem to take up a fair percentage too. you know what, this is rather distracting from what i wished to write.
full well is it that i understand not too many are particularly interest in my plight. also, any instances of poor, poor pitiful me (or sentimental hygiene for that matter) are incidental, with no real ambition to evoke some sort of interest (or sympathy). i just thought all of this might be of some use, or interest, or possibly even reassurance to someone what got a similar box and had taken to google.
pretty much as all here has stated, then, a blue (and other colours) box arrived in the post for me. well, not directly to moi. it went to my previous residence, where i was prior to this era of exile. no, i had not changed my address with a doctor (or the NHS) since entering this unusual time. didn't really see any point to it. long ago it was i gave up on the NHS. whereas i am a significant contributor to the cost of the whole inefficient mess they make it clear they have no wish to see me. any ailment that i approached a doctor with - a severed limb, for instance, or some other wound - would get from them the response that if i were to quit smoking and lose weight then i would be healed.
despite using the quality of VHS mode for the above image i did (as a precaution) elect to obscure, if not censor, the address details. for this i have used a recently acquired (south of £5) tape (actual) of something called the EastEnders Singalong Album. no idea how this one passed me by in the 80s. the main motivation for purchasing this was to hear "horny" Pete Beale do a song called Barrow Boy. for those interested, and to provide an entirely unexpected musical interlude, below is a bit of video of the song playing on the tape.
since i am once again distracted, changing one's address with the NHS is quite difficult. they do get all excited about what you can do with their "app" thing, but no, you cannot change your address with it, or rather on it. some searching dans le internet said i had to contact my current doctor (or GP) and get them to make the change. with it being tricky to visit them, i simply posted a letter asking for their assistance, giving them the details. to their credit they responded the day after i posted the letter. somewhat less ("fewer") to their credit all they said was that based on my new address i was no longer a patient of theirs, and that i should "use the internet" to find one close to me. did that, i think i am registered with a close by doctor and i hope my current address is now all updated. part of the celebrated laws of the English way of doing things is to make this needlessly complicated.
no, i did not rush to open this box up then. mostly this was down to a suspicion that whatever was in it was being kept "sterile" or similar, and i saw little sense in rushing to open it whilst remaining in a sense of doubt as to if they had my address. being honest, there was also some hesitancy, as clearly their intention (if not ambition) was to test me for something or other. anyway, once reasonably sure that they would likely have the right address for me, on i went.
yes, sure, part of the reason to put the above picture here was to showcase that blue i was talking (or writing, pedantic fans) about. granted, in retrospect a lot of the box is white, but still, it's the blue what seems more striking. moving on and, as you can (kind of) see in the above, the packaging seems to go to some lengths telling me where not to open it. perhaps it would be diplomatic to suggest this is done so as to ensure tests get done properly, but more likely it is them (rightly or wrongly) assuming the overwhelming majority of this country are (as point of fact) f*****g idiots, needing to have our hands held and be nursed at all times.
what, exactly, did i expect to find in the box? my assumption was it was one of them "pin prick" blood tests. this was based on some offering from verk where they did a test for 20 or so things based on a submitted blood sample. i never did that one as it took longer than you might think to get myself weighed, which was a requirement. actually, in advance of this i did get weighed, and discovered that i have lost some 2 or 3 (possibly more) stone (no idea on metric) in two or three years. not that i have tried. getting weighed was tricker than it should have been. i reasonably assumed that a chemist with a pharmacy would have a scale, so in to one i duly went. they seem more confused than perplexed that anyone would want to know what they weighed, as if no good could come from such knowledge. eventually a rather stylishly dressed pharmacist, clearly having overhead the conversation, appeared with a set of scales and invited me to use them.
oh. right. not a "pin prick" (or even an armful of) blood test then. well, to be fair, actually i think they are looking for blood, just not where it would usually be found. since the above image is not in VHS mode i would imagine what they needed from moi is reasonably clear. if not, or should you wish to have it spelled (spelt?) out, they required a "stool" sample. you know, poop. from a number two. for those requiring it (admittedly censored) more directly, they very much wished to have some of my sh!t.
this is to test for bowel cancer. i believe there's a somewhat alarming increase in cases of this, mostly among(st) the young, and i think i saw on the news they believe it may be related to "protein diets", which i am certainly not on. my assumption, going ton when they sent this out, is that they opted to offer the chance of a test to me based on my similar to a deck of cards present age.
getting this sample was going to be tricky. they had provided instructions, and their caution was that one could not simply shove the stick into excrement in a toilet (lavatory, if posh) as apparently it was seriously important that the sample had not touched toilet water. by chance i had an unused, and of course would never actually use again "food container" box in the cupboard. yes, as a nice distraction for you, the tape (actual) used to hide my details in this instance is the fabulous soundtrack for the 1982 brilliant Australian (g'day) film Starstruck. or Star Struck. it is a source of frustration to me that the soundtrack never got released on CD (hence the tape) and that the film is not widely available.
being blunt, frank (yet not Mr Sinatra) or direct, as it turned out (and you may wish to skip this part) the act (or art) of sh!tt!ng in a box was more complex and involved than i had anticipated. this was rather surprising, and kudos to them who do this frequently so as to post it (for whatever reason) to a wide range of politicians, rival football managers and what have you. i have a whole new level of respect for those who elect (or opt) to express their displeasure in such a convoluted way.
it, as in the sample, and with no further graphic details, got done. from what i could tell (or ascertain) done exactly as they required, and popped (so to speak) in the liquid filled "sample" or specimen thing that they provided. should it be that i have to do similar again then i will totes get a bigger receptacle or what have you for it. maybe a cheap cat litter tray, or possibly the desk of a former employer or the bonnet ("hood", if American) of car belonging to someone i believe that i have a score to settle with. quite likely the cat litter tray idea, but one must indulge the occasional daydream.
ultimately i don't think the word "scared" feels right. there is a sense of trepidation, i suppose. i would not say i have ever been flippant but blasé would be fair in regards of any possibility of cancer entering my life. being entirely honest, well, with my enthusiasm for smoking (sorry) whenever i had briefly given passing thought to the subject i just accepted mouth or (more likely) lung cancer would be a thing to face, if not some heart issues. at no stage did it occur to me to get tested for anything, instead being resigned (or accepting) that i have rolled the dice, i must accept how they land.
posted, then, this sample has now been. not really sure it was (entirely) necessary to censor (or cloak) the address to where it is going, but all the same nice to showcase just one of the tape copies of The Joshua Tree off of U2 i have. no, not any intended symbolic reason for using a copy of this album, just seemed like a good idea when i took the pictures.
lately, and for some reasonable time (more than i would care to confess) i have found myself letting my mind linger on all that i have lost; on all that is lost to me. over Christmas a young lad living not far away from my place of exile clearly got a new bicycle. as i stood having a cigarette (sorry) i watched him flying (well, riding at speed) on it, clearly with a big smile. that sense of freedom from doing so touched a sense of nostalgia i didn't know was there. i see couples, families and groups of friends walking around, making their way in the world. such makes me lament that this will never be me, this cannot be me. but, as i said, i rolled the dice. perhaps the dice were loaded, but i rolled them all the same.
kind of disappointed that it wasn't the "blood pin prick" sort of test, partially as it would have been considerably easier but mostly i was rather eager to see how many i failed. don't remember, but if it was 20 things they tested for in that i would have reasonably expected to fail, say, twenty.
i suppose this is not a rehearsal, or a special effect. should by some miracle or quirk of fate my correct address in exile be updated and i get the test results, yeah, sure, i will put something or other about it here. maybe not with so many tapes, but what else would i do with the information.
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i don't rightly know why, exactly, i went to such tremendous artistic (kind of) lengths to hide my name, for it is not like there's a whole lot of people looking to impersonate me. also it's not like they could do all that worse a job (or what have you) with my life than what i am doing.
many thanks for reading.
