Off topic with no matching photos
I hope you found the ideas for summer reading of interest. I am now back from a few fun days in Rhodes; I was over there to have another of my routine check-ups organised by my health insurance company, Axa. This was a follow on visit and involved a 24-hour blood pressure monitor. Actually, as I write, it’s still not finished as I am still in my hotel in Rhodes, on Wednesday morning, filling in time by getting this post ready in advance. I know I will be rushed when I get back so I thought it best to have some text noted down to save time later. (No appropriate photos today, though they were taken in Rhodes.)
Here’s the story so far: I turned up at the cardiologist at the appointed time, or ten minutes early as that’s how I am. I took a seat on the leather sofas, the place was much quieter this time, and very soon I was called in to be fitted out. The doctor wired me up with an arm band and digital recorder of some sort that hung around my neck and fixed across my ‘Empire Line’ with a belt. It did take a little getting used to but I was more concerned about what I looked like than how it felt. It went under my shirt but stuck out a little bit at chest level, giving me the appearance of being barrel chested; not a great look, especially when your shirt won’t tuck in. I felt a couple of feet deep, as it were, when in fact it hardly showed at all. Anyway, that set up, and with instruction’s like something out of Gremlins, ‘don’t get it wet,’ and a phone number in case I had any troubles, off I went.
The instructions, basically, were: when you hear two beeps, stand still and let your arm dangle if standing, or rest on a chair arm, or table, or at night, lie it flat. The arm band will then tighten and do its thing and then undo its thing and the box will beep again. If you’re moving and you miss it, it will try again after two minutes. And so on, every 20 minutes until around midnight when it would become once per hour until seven in the morning. Clever little thing. So, off I go and, as I pass the Plaza Hotel, staring in the windows to see what I look like, I think I hear a beep, but don’t realise what it is until my arm starts to be squeezed. Ah ha! That’s how it goes, but it was too late and the reading was not taken. Two minutes later, I am self-consciously crossing the foyer at the Lydia hotel when I hear the beep. What to do? I reach the lift in time and press the button and then stand stock still, hoping the doors won’t open until the thing is done. I read the notice about checkout times diligently for a full minute, and the lift doors open just as I get the confirmation beep and I’m okay.
Before my visit I had done the other things I needed to do, get new glasses, return the old Ote router, etc. and so, after viewing myself every which way but loose-fitting in the mirror, I decide that there’s nothing to be done except go for a wander. I was just passing a ladies’ fashion shop when the beeps went. I stopped and admired some startling gold creation, several pairs of kitten heels and some alarming underwear for a minute, hoping the shop assistant didn’t come out and move me on, and then the second beep gave the okay to move on. Sitting at the Plaza for a mineral water while deciding where to lunch, I wondered how noisy I was going to be; there were other people sitting quite close by. The machine not only beeps but then it vibrates and rumbles slightly and, as it lets the air out of its arm band, it makes a controlled farting noise in nine puffs. This was of some concern until I realised that everyone’s phones, tablets, computers, iThings and even the people themselves were also beeping and vibrating and, no doubt, silently parping along with my machine. Anyway, there was music was playing (some lift-music compilation with pop songs sung by the girl from Ipanema, it sounded like, – imagine Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ sung huskily by Astrud Gilberto to a bossa nova rhythm. Odd enough, but then try ‘Where the streets have no name.’)
So, off to the Chinese place up the road as a) it was hot and I didn’t want to walk too far with my halter-neck, low-cut accessory and b) I know I can get simple chicken and vegetables there and not have to have anything with chips. I beeped and vibrated my way through a basic dish and a beer, thinking ‘Ha! Take that you BP monitor,’ and then wandered back to my hotel, stopping here and there to spontaneously sit with dodgy looking old men on walls opposite the college and not move for a minute, apparently for no good reason. I am surprised no one threw small change at me, or called the authorities. Later, after a rest in my room, I did some more walking, impromptu menu studying, sudden arresting on traffic islands, some rather stalkish behaviour on the seafront, and the occasional pause to deeply admire a tree. It took me a long while to realise that, in order to look normal, all you need to do in this circumstance is to stand still anywhere and stare at your mobile phone. No one bats an eyelid at static strangers staring at screens, so that became my modus operandi for the rest of the day.
Night-time came, after a very pleasant and cheap dinner at the Plaza, and I put my ear plugs in to guard against the beeping and air-expulsion noises and tried to sleep on my back. I’m usually a sleep-on-front kind of guy but that was out of the question. How does Iron Man do it? I wondered. I fell asleep once the once-an-hour routine kicked in and that was fine. Didn’t hear the beeps at all. But I did wake up with the feeling that someone was gripping my arm; gave me a bit of a shock the first time round, then I got used to that too. But it was a bit of a rough night to say the least. I finally gave up and got up when my nephew sent me a message from Gatwick to let me know he was about to get on the plane. I wrote back. He replied, ‘You’re up early.’ I replied, ‘Well, I am now,’ and so the day started.
Blimey, that was a long post. It’s now nearly time for me to take my accessory back to the doctor for the verdict, after which I am meeting said Nephew and heading home.
