So I had a meeting off-site today, to talk to a company who are pitching for some projects we have going. We get there, and the woman we are talking to (henceforth referred to as Lizard Woman; she was evidently a lover of both the sun and cigarettes) apologises for not being able to meet us earlier in the week as she’d been quite sick. We expressed sincere, but non-specific concern and wishes for feeling better. Unfortunately for us, Lizard Woman took the vague queries as authentic interest from people who Actually Care, and leapt to further enlighten us as to her condition. We sat there in abject horror, misery and, in the end, boredom as we endured graphic descriptions of her lower back pain, her abdomen pain, her previous hysterectomy, her visits to the doctor, her scans, her barium breakfast, and how it all turned out to be an infection. Of the bowel. The BOWEL. She really seemed to dwell on the Bowel bit, pointing to bits of herself with relish and tracing the path of Disease over the front of her stomach.
The Bowel. God help us. We have to go back again on Tuesday.
