Warts and all

There were no steaming vats of liquid nitrogen, much to my disappointment. The nurse practitioner had rather, what looked like a small acetylene welder that squirted liquid nitrogen spray instead. Effective, but boring.

The wart on the arm got the first squirt – it’s an odd feeling, but not painful. I can’t really describe it. Of course, compared with my scalp and face, my fore arm is like old leather, so by crackey, it failed to prepare me for just how cold it felt on my head. The treatment on the scalp gave me a momentary headache behind my eye, but that very quickly went. I think the squirt at the wart on my nose was probably the worst; all those sinuses behind it were suddenly very cold indeed and it felt for a moment like I’d eaten an entire quart of ice cream in one mouthful. Talk about head freeze.

I’m not sure what the next move is. I have to go back next time they hold a chryo clinic, to tackle the rest of the brutes. In the meantime, I look as though I have been visited by a particularly persistent mosquito. All the warts that were zapped are now swollen like insect bites. I guess I just have to wait for them to fall off or something.

Shudder

What with my limp and the swollen warts, I am tempted to wander around the office hunched over with my hands clasped asking if the “marster would like the brains watered…”

The impossible happened last night in the quiz. We won the actual quiz quite handsomely – 28/30 correct (and I checked later – one of the quizmaster’s answers was wrong too, though we didn’t know and it would have made no difference). We won by a solid four points and that gives us a £25 bar tab for next week’s Christmas-themed quiz. Having a history of failure in these matters, we sent Chris sans LJ up to pick the envelope for the jackpot and damn me if he didn’t pick the correct one! So we won £295! Why couldn’t we do that when it was up to £1,000? Still, a nice little stash on the run up to Christmas. Chris refused his share of the money as he felt he hadn’t really contributed to the victory, which is untrue. So it will be free drinks for motorpickle and him next week, I think. Fair’s fair.

Furtle pointed out that she had never held a roll of notes amounting to just under three hundred quid. So I passed it to her.

This may have been a tactical and operational mistake; she just had time to say, “coo” before fumbling the ball as it were: the notes showered out of her hands like confetti. We rather uncharitably pointed out that this was probably why she had never been allowed to hold so much money in one go. Luckily we were inside and there was no draft. As it was there was a rather impressive scrabble for the money as it scattered across the floor…

Such was the advanced time at this point that we celebrated our win with halves before trudging out into the rather chilly evening.

I have brought my share of the winnings with me into the office. I may investigate the possibilities of an iPod at lunchtime.

But it will have to be the right iPod…

Warts and all

There were no steaming vats of liquid nitrogen, much to my disappointment. The nurse practitioner had rather, what looked like a small acetylene welder that squirted liquid nitrogen spray instead. Effective, but boring.

The wart on the arm got the first squirt – it’s an odd feeling, but not painful. I can’t really describe it. Of course, compared with my scalp and face, my fore arm is like old leather, so by crackey, it failed to prepare me for just how cold it felt on my head. The treatment on the scalp gave me a momentary headache behind my eye, but that very quickly went. I think the squirt at the wart on my nose was probably the worst; all those sinuses behind it were suddenly very cold indeed and it felt for a moment like I’d eaten an entire quart of ice cream in one mouthful. Talk about head freeze.

I’m not sure what the next move is. I have to go back next time they hold a chryo clinic, to tackle the rest of the brutes. In the meantime, I look as though I have been visited by a particularly persistent mosquito. All the warts that were zapped are now swollen like insect bites. I guess I just have to wait for them to fall off or something.

Shudder

What with my limp and the swollen warts, I am tempted to wander around the office hunched over with my hands clasped asking if the “marster would like the brains watered…”

The impossible happened last night in the quiz. We won the actual quiz quite handsomely – 28/30 correct (and I checked later – one of the quizmaster’s answers was wrong too, though we didn’t know and it would have made no difference). We won by a solid four points and that gives us a £25 bar tab for next week’s Christmas-themed quiz. Having a history of failure in these matters, we sent Chris sans LJ up to pick the envelope for the jackpot and damn me if he didn’t pick the correct one! So we won £295! Why couldn’t we do that when it was up to £1,000? Still, a nice little stash on the run up to Christmas. Chris refused his share of the money as he felt he hadn’t really contributed to the victory, which is untrue. So it will be free drinks for motorpickle and him next week, I think. Fair’s fair.

Furtle pointed out that she had never held a roll of notes amounting to just under three hundred quid. So I passed it to her.

This may have been a tactical and operational mistake; she just had time to say, “coo” before fumbling the ball as it were: the notes showered out of her hands like confetti. We rather uncharitably pointed out that this was probably why she had never been allowed to hold so much money in one go. Luckily we were inside and there was no draft. As it was there was a rather impressive scrabble for the money as it scattered across the floor…

Such was the advanced time at this point that we celebrated our win with halves before trudging out into the rather chilly evening.

I have brought my share of the winnings with me into the office. I may investigate the possibilities of an iPod at lunchtime.

But it will have to be the right iPod…