A bit of a tight spot

The Truss Consultation or ‘Careful what you say! It’s the hidden things that can get you into trouble’

​

The scenario? An unflappable professional (the Doctor) dealing with a grumpy, overly dramatic patient (Grump). It can only lead to one thing.

​

Grump has caused himself a bit of discomfort, resulting in a trip to the hospital for ‘a fitting.’

 

A caveat: Before entering the torrid world of this event, and to avoid unnecessary litigation, it is important to consider that no other ‘Truss’ is either hinted at suggested or exposed to public scrutiny during this unpleasantness.

​

For brevity (not usually a part of this storyline), this is presented through the sanitised prism of ‘he said, she said………………’except that there is no 'she' involved.

​

Grump: Ouch!

​

Doctor: "I haven't done anything yet!

​

Grump: "Just practicing."

​

Doctor: (Consulting his clipboard, sounding professional but slightly weary)

​

“Right then, Mr. Grump. We've confirmed it's an inguinal hernia. Nothing to panic about, but we need to keep that protrusion... well, in. We're fitting you with a truss today.”

​

Grump: (Sounding predictably glum)

​

“A truss? Sounds like something a butcher uses to tie up a chicken. Are we sure this thing in't going to turn me into a sort of human GPO parcel?”

 

Doctor: (Without looking up, for he has heard it all before). He articulates better than a smoothly parked pantechnicon………….

​

“Think of it less as a parcel, Mr. Grump, and more as a bespoke piece of under-engineered architecture. It's a supportive garment. The key is to wear it constantly.”

 

Grump: (still trying to decipher ‘pantechnicon.’)

​

“Constantly? Even when I'm, you know... sleeping?”

 

Doctor: “Especially when you're sleeping. That's when your abdominal muscles decide they've had enough for the day and go on vacation. We need the truss to be the strrict and stern, uniformed border guard that keeps your internal organs from staging a jailbreak.”

​

Grump:

​

“Jailbreak? That's a reet lovely image. So, what about when I want to take a dump or a bath? Do I have to... hang the truss on the back of the door like a damp towel?”

​

Doctor: (Sighs gently)

​

“You can remove it for washing, errr…….or ‘dumping’ (clearing his throat), yes. But the moment you step out of the bath, you need to be quick about getting it back on. You’ll become intimately familiar with the concept of anatomical whack-a-mole.”

​

Grump:

​

“Whack-a-mole? Thee doctors certainly have a way with words. Nah then; tell me honestly, And Doctor............

​

Doctor: Yes?

​

Grump: Why is there a bat hanging around, with an owl looking up at it? And.........what am I going to look like in this thing? Am I going to have a permanent, suspicious-looking bulge under my trousers? Because I still have to go to work, the shops and t’footie.”

​

Doctor: (Finally looking up he offers a thin, professional smile.)

​

Patiently he says: The owl? Part of another story, just ignore it. The truss?

​​

“Mr. Grump, a well-fitted truss is remarkably discreet. It's designed to hold things in, not advertise them. Besides, the alternative is a visible bulge that moves when you cough, and I assure you, that's far less discreet and coughing is not to be recommended. Think of this as ‘your secret, supportive friend.’”

​

Grump: A secret supportive friend made of unyielding elastic, a nasty metal pad. And what abart when tha bends over to tie up thee shoe laces? Is this thing going to launch me backwards like a poorly calibrated catapult?”

​

Doctor: “Not if it's fitted correctly. It should move with you. And you must always lie down to put it on.”

Grump: “Lie down to put it on?”........making a mental note that he should check that Torp isn’t wearing one of these flippin’ things. “I'm going to have to start carrying a small rug everywhere, aren't I? A sort of hernia yoga mat for public truss adjustments.”

​

Doctor: (Hands Grump a printed instruction sheet)

​

“Just the bed, Mr. Grump. Just the bed. Now, the main issue people have is remembering to adjust the pressure pad.”

​

Grump: The pressure pad! Sound like a flippin explosive device…….Does tha' mean the bit that makes me feel like I’ve swallowed a small, very rigid golf ball?”

 

Doctor: “The pad is essential. It applies the necessary pressure. If it shifts, you need to realign it immediately. Otherwise, you're just wearing an expensive elastic belt. You'll need to... reach down and give it a firm, authoritative nudge.”

​

Grump: (Eyes widening in horror) “A firm, authoritative nudge?... In public? So I'm basically going to look like I'm having a perpetual, deeply confusing argument with my trousers. Well, this is going to be the making of me, int’ it? ‘The man who can't stop wrestling with his own underwear.’

 

Doctor: (Standing up and placing a reassuring, non-committal hand on Grump's shoulder)

“Look on the bright side, Mr. Grump. It's a conversation starter. And it’s far less embarrassing than the alternative. Now, let’s get you fitted.

​

Worried note: The nurse has a large, intimidating-looking elasticated strap waiting.

 

Grump: (Muttering as he shuffles out) Intimidating.

 

“Perfect. Just perfect……….”

​

YOU MIGHT WISH TO USE THIS AT YOUR CHRISTMAS PANTO/PARTY

​

If so please do not mention me!