Two years ago next month, I needed to travel up to the Emerson Green Treatment Centre, in Bristol, in order to have an Upper GI Endoscopy.
For years, I had suffered from intermittent, but nasty, attacks of epigastric pain – and the local surgery thought it time to investigate what was going on.
I, naturally, chose exactly the wrong people to ask about this procedure – and was deluged with dire dramas involving choking, panicking, the tube being down there for half an hour or more, and God alone knows what else.
Terrified almost out of my wits, I decided to ask for sedation (via Ketamine, if possible!) so that I could, as it were, sleep/hallucinate through the whole bloody thing! The only problem with this eminently sensible solution was that I would need someone else with me because, doped to the eyeballs, I’d be in no fit state…
View original post 709 more words