Give me some dialogue from your day

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gbb

Squire
Location
Peterborough
It worked perfectly...
Grandson (8) is a handfull, we're sure he has issues but nothing identified yet. We knew at 2 years old as he came into the family he was going to be a handfull. His mum rings just before we're due to pick them up...he's being a mare, won't get in the car to get home etcetera, so they're stuck.
'Give me 5 minutes, I'll be there, don't tell him'

When we arrived, he's sprawled over the dash refusing to move for mum and other nan. His face dropped as we rolled up, I wound down my window and said
'Get out that car...NOW'
He did instantly and nan looked exasperated...
'Why will you do what grandad says but not me or mummy'

A rollicking ensued but finished with...
'Right, mums going to take you out, have a good time but this stops now, no silliness, clean start mate, put a smile on your face and enjoy your day' (he's was going to the cinema while his sisters come to ours for dinner)

Talking to the other nan, she wondered why does he respond to you guys so differently ?
He would play us up, I'm sure, if he spent a long time with us, we started tough with him, laid out lines he mustnt cross, he's just never found a way through yet. Given time, I suspect he would.:whistle:

Kids, who'd have em ? :laugh:
 

gbb

Squire
Location
Peterborough
How a chance sentence can make a connection you never knew was there.
I was at a local farmers stall getting potatoes. Been using him for 10 years or more, often chat about this and that. Being an old farmer, there's a lot of banter with his helpers about being tight.
At one stage I said..
'Old guy I used to work with used to say.....'live like a rich man, don't die like one'
I continued...
'It was a guy who trained me at work, he's gone now, Nev....errr, blimey I can't remember his name, doesn't matter anyway, you won't know him....Shepperson, thats it'
Farmer Immediately replied..
'Neville, I knew him, did he run a small transport business, he used to haul out of local farms years ago ?'

There you go, connections made and lost decades ago suddenly come to the fore, completely by chance.
 

oldwheels

Legendary Member
Location
Isle of Mull
MRI scan yesterday, which turns out to be in a large lorry trailer in a council car park. I am not at all fazed by this, knowing in advance that the procedure is very noisy, a bit claustrophobic, safe and painless. I've been down mines and along narrow galleries extending out half a mile under the sea. I've been in the tunnels under Naples and walked through ones that are only wide enough to move sideways for over 100m in near darkness, so I wasn't expecting claustrophobia to be a problem. My confidence turned out to be misplaced.

On arrival, I hand in a questionnaire and am then shown into the room with the gizmo. The central hole looks a lot smaller than the ones in hospitals I've seen online (it is a lot smaller). The radiographer then gives me the first of two verbal interactions.

Radiographer: Please lie down with your legs here. Hold this panic button in your right hand.

This was my sole briefing on what was to happen next. While I wonder why I would need a panic button, before I can ask, some very uncomfortable ear defenders are placed on my head and I'm immediately borne inside. I find myself lying in the narrowest of tubes. The top is 2 to 3 inches from my face and I am unable to see anything bar the white plastic immediately above my eyes. It is incredibly stuffy as there seems to be no air movement. This is not helped by me wearing a mask as per instructions. It is so narrow that I cannot lie with both arms by my sides, one is stuck up the side of the tube with my shoulder scrunched up.

None of this is intolerable, it's just a bit of discomfort. I wait to see what happens next. Well, nothing for what seems to be an eternity but is probably less than a minute.

Robot voice: The next scan will last 30 seconds.

Next? Did I miss the first one? An almighty din breaks out. 30 seconds later it stops. Well, that was ok, I think, no trouble at all. Why am I not being wheeled out again? While I'm wondering:

Robot voice: The next scan will last 3 minutes.

Ah! Not just 30 seconds then. 3 minutes of aural assault follows that slowly becomes incredibly disorientating. Towards the end, I become conscious that I'm starting to show signs of hyperventilation. Oh Oh. I'm practised in relaxing breathing exercises to control heart rates, albeit I haven't had to use them for years, and the almighty din is not conducive to calm but I stop the sense of panic. The three minutes ends and I can relax. Why am I not being wheeled out?

Robot voice: The next scan will last 5 minutes.

Oh god. I nervously hold the panic button, aptly named for how I am now feeling. Two minutes more of this and it is all I can do not to scream and claw my way out. Why didn't I know at 64 that I'm claustrophobic? The only thing that is keeping me from not pressing the panic button is the thought that I don't want to have to go through this again. I slowy get control back but my breathing is all over the shop and I feel very odd.

Robot voice: The next scan will last 4 minutes

Rinse and repeat. This process continued for a total of about 20 minutes. I had no idea when it would end but end it did and out my trolley came.

Radiographer: Your referrer will get the results in 7 to 10 days. End of second verbal interaction.

I am too shattered to say anything. I half fall off the couch but this goes unnoticed and I almost stagger into the car park. A twenty minute walk later and my surreal phobia discovery starts to fade.

Now in the overall scheme of things medical, this is all quite trivial; just that my earlier confidence that I would be ok turned out to be completely misplaced. Yes, the people skills of the staff weren't great but I was just grateful that from referral to scan was only four weeks. In the current climate, that's very good. I only hope I don't have to do another one.

I was offered a choice of music to listen to when I was getting scanned but the sound system was so dreadful I was sorry I had accepted.
"Who the F**k tied this on?"

"It's a good job you never tied the lifeboats on the Titanic else no-one would of survived!"

Rigging Foreman trying to undo something the Apprentice had tied on the Winch rope, not the most eloquent us Riggers.

When my son worked on fish farms he was responsible for tying the boat up at the end of the working day.
Next morning they go down to the jetty after a very windy night and no boat so manager makes sarcastic remarks about learning to use knots. Son notices the mooring rope is still there and pulls on it and his knot had not in fact given but the deck of the boat had parted from the hull which had vanished.:whistle:
 
Middle Son (MS): Mum, do you mind if I fry these four sausages?
Beautiful Wife (BW): Sure, I left them for you, but there should be five. Check the fridge; one may have fallen out of the pack.
MS: You're telling me one of my sausages has gone rogue?

Later:

BW: Please eat the sausages with other things
MS: I always eat my sausages with other things.
BW: Really?
Younger Son: Yeah, a Knife and fork is other things, right?

And so life goes on in the Ingermany household...
 
Me - "I'll pay for food but not for some posh bints spare house lol"

My reaction to a friend's suggestion (for someone's stag do) we rent a £1400p/night mansion that comes with its own cinema and bar.

The stag is not a drinker, and has said they want a quiet day chilling with friends. Why people are suggesting we pay through the nose for a lavish do is a mystery!
 

Oldhippy

Cynical idealist
A conversation by an American couple overheard while waiting for my wrap to be made and describing Westgate (one of the best preserved examples of Early Medieval City gates anywhere in Europe. 'Hey Honey, whaddya see?' 'Oh, not much Hun, just church tower type thing they've built over the road so you can drive through it.' Why bother coming to one of the best preserved and oldest cities anywhere in Greater Europe! Grrrr! Fabulous ride otherwise.
 

Profpointy

Legendary Member
MRI scan yesterday, which turns out to be in a large lorry trailer in a council car park. I am not at all fazed by this, knowing in advance that the procedure is very noisy, a bit claustrophobic, safe and painless. I've been down mines and along narrow galleries extending out half a mile under the sea. I've been in the tunnels under Naples and walked through ones that are only wide enough to move sideways for over 100m in near darkness, so I wasn't expecting claustrophobia to be a problem. My confidence turned out to be misplaced.

On arrival, I hand in a questionnaire and am then shown into the room with the gizmo. The central hole looks a lot smaller than the ones in hospitals I've seen online (it is a lot smaller). The radiographer then gives me the first of two verbal interactions.

Radiographer: Please lie down with your legs here. Hold this panic button in your right hand.

This was my sole briefing on what was to happen next. While I wonder why I would need a panic button, before I can ask, some very uncomfortable ear defenders are placed on my head and I'm immediately borne inside. I find myself lying in the narrowest of tubes. The top is 2 to 3 inches from my face and I am unable to see anything bar the white plastic immediately above my eyes. It is incredibly stuffy as there seems to be no air movement. This is not helped by me wearing a mask as per instructions. It is so narrow that I cannot lie with both arms by my sides, one is stuck up the side of the tube with my shoulder scrunched up.

None of this is intolerable, it's just a bit of discomfort. I wait to see what happens next. Well, nothing for what seems to be an eternity but is probably less than a minute.

Robot voice: The next scan will last 30 seconds.

Next? Did I miss the first one? An almighty din breaks out. 30 seconds later it stops. Well, that was ok, I think, no trouble at all. Why am I not being wheeled out again? While I'm wondering:

Robot voice: The next scan will last 3 minutes.

Ah! Not just 30 seconds then. 3 minutes of aural assault follows that slowly becomes incredibly disorientating. Towards the end, I become conscious that I'm starting to show signs of hyperventilation. Oh Oh. I'm practised in relaxing breathing exercises to control heart rates, albeit I haven't had to use them for years, and the almighty din is not conducive to calm but I stop the sense of panic. The three minutes ends and I can relax. Why am I not being wheeled out?

Robot voice: The next scan will last 5 minutes.

Oh god. I nervously hold the panic button, aptly named for how I am now feeling. Two minutes more of this and it is all I can do not to scream and claw my way out. Why didn't I know at 64 that I'm claustrophobic? The only thing that is keeping me from not pressing the panic button is the thought that I don't want to have to go through this again. I slowy get control back but my breathing is all over the shop and I feel very odd.

Robot voice: The next scan will last 4 minutes

Rinse and repeat. This process continued for a total of about 20 minutes. I had no idea when it would end but end it did and out my trolley came.

Radiographer: Your referrer will get the results in 7 to 10 days. End of second verbal interaction.

I am too shattered to say anything. I half fall off the couch but this goes unnoticed and I almost stagger into the car park. A twenty minute walk later and my surreal phobia discovery starts to fade.

Now in the overall scheme of things medical, this is all quite trivial; just that my earlier confidence that I would be ok turned out to be completely misplaced. Yes, the people skills of the staff weren't great but I was just grateful that from referral to scan was only four weeks. In the current climate, that's very good. I only hope I don't have to do another one.

Can’t help thinking it would have helped if they’d explained from the off there’ll be a series of scans, ideally how many, and you’ll be in there 20 minutes rather than wondering if you’d be in there all day, and how many to go. best wishes with whatever has prompted the scan.
 

oldwheels

Legendary Member
Location
Isle of Mull
Can’t help thinking it would have helped if they’d explained from the off there’ll be a series of scans, ideally how many, and you’ll be in there 20 minutes rather than wondering if you’d be in there all day, and how many to go. best wishes with whatever has prompted the scan.

When I had an MRI scan I got a choice of music which proved to have a dreadful sound quality but no information on duration.
 

Rezillo

TwoSheds
Location
Suffolk
Can’t help thinking it would have helped if they’d explained from the off there’ll be a series of scans, ideally how many, and you’ll be in there 20 minutes rather than wondering if you’d be in there all day, and how many to go. best wishes with whatever has prompted the scan.

Thanks - spinal stenosis, op in three weeks time, having a titanium plate put in my spine and, if I've got it right, two vertebrae fused. It's coming out of our life savings; the alternative is an NHS official two year wait or an unofficial three year one. There was a year's wait for an initial NHS hospital appt, which means I wouldn't have even got on the list until next year.

I don't like queue jumping but I'm in my mid 60s and by the time the NHS sorted it out, I would have had three of the most active years left to me ruined by my symptoms.
 

gbb

Squire
Location
Peterborough
problems with a machine yesterday, we knew it was relating to a specific area but couldn't nail it down. We'd spent maybe an hour on it scratching our heads. My colleague went off to the workshops to sharpen a suspect part, I continued looking and thinking,
He came back 15 minutes later
'Here, Paul just suggested we look at blah blah part, that can cause it.'
I triumphantly held up exactly that part....
'Too late, figured it, found it, replaced it...its all working now :okay:
 
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