My wife is here because I’m being sedated, and won’t be allowed home on my own
A friend once told me that while he was undergoing an embarrassing medical procedure, the fact that he knew me somehow came up in conversation. “So I’m lying there with a camera halfway up my arse,” he said, “having to answer questions about your sodding column.”
“Sorry,” I said. But I wasn’t sorry. I secretly considered it a career high point. You are being discussed, I told myself, in highly inappropriate settings.
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