Friday, 1 April 2016
Scrobs has had a few problems eating of late, whereby swallowing was becoming a bit of a chore, and it was making both Mrs O'Blene, (and also Scrobs, who was trying to do the actual swallowing) somewhat upset and side-looking at the consequences.
Scrobs' good business/friend chum, had also experienced these symptoms some time awhile back, and he'd had a rough time getting to grips with the reality that something wasn't quite right, and being the lovely bloke he is, he soldiered on.
While good chum was going through this turmoil, Scrobs found that he was getting the same symptoms, and yeah, it ain't pleasant...
Scrobs' chum was 'seen to' by a special surgeon and is - apparently (in his case, just bloody right), in fine fettle, as I hope to find when we order several glasses of vino in a few days time, and we'll compare notes!
Funny old thing, ain't it? You've got this far, (68) and have escaped the awful nasties so far, but then a silly old squeeze occurs somewhere down the gullet, and then you think, 'well, why the f*** did this happen now'!
Reevers (RVI) has posted that he's recently been through far, far worse, and I'm so relieved to hear that he's still OK, so there's a great result for everyone!
Hey-ho and off we go - it's all ok now, and the subject can just about rest...
The pic is a recent view of Scrobs interstices, and I hope will become a David Bailey icon - one day!