Covering the Goulburn and Murray valleys

How many lumps with that sir?

First it was a mild headache.

August 27, 2014 5:12pm

First it was a mild headache.

Just a gentle throb at the back of the head.

That was on Monday afternoon.

By Monday night it was a full-blown something.

It might have been a migraine – I couldn’t tell because I have never had one.

It might have been a hangover – I couldn’t tell because I don’t imbibe.

It might have been a tumor – I couldn’t tell because I don’t have an MRI but the thought was enough to get me off my spreading backside and down to the doctor as fast as I could waddle to the car.

“Fat Guts,” he said after what seemed a far too cursory check on my vital signs, “it’s withdrawals.”

“My God,” I cried, falling back on the groaning examination table and clutching my heart. “I didn’t even know I was a drug addict.”

“You might be brain addled Fatso my boy, but not with drugs,” he laughed.

“It’s the sugar,” he said.

“Your body is already craving sugar and your system is going into overload trying to offset the imbalance.”

“You mean I’ve been on a diet for 24 hours and this is what is happening to me? Holy crap! What will tomorrow bring?”

“Well for someone in your ample shape I would expect constipation to be next cab off the rank,” he mocked in a not very-professional tone.

“Doctor it’s bad enough that the tale of my diet is online but did you see the Riv has matched me up with that Brad Threlfall guy, the runner.

“Crikey Christmas, that bloke would have to run around in the shower to get wet. My left leg weighs more than he does. It’s a bloody disgrace that I get teamed with him.

“There are plenty of people around town who would put me in a shadow, why aren’t they being given a serve on this fangled interwebby thing?”

“Fat Guts I don’t have time for this. I have to see some patients with real problems. Just keep taking Panadol – but don’t get addicted,” the swine laughed as he ushered me out his door.

So I poured myself back into the car, making a mental note to self I had to speak to the mechanic about the shockers on the driver’s side, clearly there was something wrong with them.

I called in at the discount pharmacy, the one with the handy double door, and fronted the counter still with the old noggin being pounded 20 to the dozen.

“I need some Panadol,” I demanded. “And I think I need a lot.”

The heroin chic young lady behind the counter looked me up and down – at which point I straightened my tie – and said: “You’ll be wanting the jumbo pack then?”

Online moderator’s note: The rest of this report was removed as this is a family website.

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