Its Monday morning and I have risen at the crack of dawn. Today will be a busy day, and it starts at the gynaecologist.
Most people don't think much of going to the gynaecologist. Yes, it can be a little uncomfortable, yes there are those stirrups, but all in all its a bit of a non event. Unless, of course that is, you are me.
When I arrive I sit down to see the doctor staring intently at my file. I immediately start panicking. He hasn't even met me yet. What can possibly be wrong with me? Am I going to die? He then ruffles his papers, puts down his file, and says,
'Younger. Does the word Leckie mean anything to you?'
I'm panicking now. This man is Scottish. Leckie is the name of my Granny's house. Either this man is a psychic or he is also my Grandmother's gynaecologist. I shudder at the thought of it.
Oblivious to my horror, he continues with a walk down memory lane.
'You know, I very nearly bought your Granny's house once. We went there for tea. Your Uncle has man trap in his dungeon.'
I'm nodding. Its true. Great Uncle Bobby did have a man trap. I believe that it looked a lot like a bear trap, just with somewhat more grisly intentions.
He gestures for me to get up on the bed and put my legs in the stirrups, and then just before he opens my legs he says'
'Your Granny's got a lovely fireplace.'