“Here,” said the nice lady in the scrubs. “Drink this.”
She handed me a cup of what looked like thin spackle. Tasted like it, too.
Mmm. Barium for breakfast.
The occasion was a full workup at a local hospital, a chance to look at all of my systems and see which ones were OK, which ones were underperforming and which were, well, I was going to say operating beyond expectations, but that doesn’t seem likely at my age. Let’s just call this what it was: A trip to the garage with orders for the mechanic to check under the hood and then get back to us with the estimate.
The day began way too early and way too hungry. You have to be fasting for this sort of thing, you know — the old “nothing to eat or drink after midnight” routine. They mean it, too. Bite a fingernail and they’ll tell you to come back when you can follow the rules.