He and I are now on first name terms. I rather enjoy our cosy little chats while every one else waiting, widen their eyes in horror as we chat randomly about the side effects of RA drugs. I have considered asking him to resign and for me to take his place. I know far more than he ever will.
He's T, D and H, so I can stare dreamily into his eyes while he utters those sexy words...breathlessness, bruising, unexplained bleeding...(I digress)
So in i hobble, colliding with an elderly lady and her stick. 'Ooo love' she says. 'You look like you're in pain!' 'Yes!' I declare triumphantly. 'I have the body of a 90yr old and I'm only 40!' Her eyebrows meet her hairline in surprise as she moves quickly away.
I slam my industrial sized super strength Sulphasalazine on the counter and the conversation is as follows:
ME: Can you get rid of these for me?
HIM: Oh dear, not get on with those then?
ME: That's the understatement of the year! I've been barfing constantly with a blinding headache and to top it all off, I've come out in the bubonic plague! Even my sodding ears are itching!
(Much sniggering from people waiting)
HIM: (laughs) Yes, they can be rather potent. What have they put you on now?
HIM: (his face drops and he goes quiet)
ME: OK, so come on, what can I expect now?
HIM: You don't want to know
ME: Look, I don't care if it's gonna result in death, at least I won't be in pain!
HIM: (smiles pityingly) I'll put you a leaflet in with them. Be very careful and any problems, give me a ring
I snatch up my suitcase sized bag of drugs and stagger out muttering 'It's costing me a bl**dy fortune just to be ill!!'
So people, the man of my dreams knows all about my intimate details from barfing to itching. He can also tell that I'm incapable of doing any Karma Sutra moves. Shame... Still, he can't have everything can he?