Blood Test Day

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This morning was blood test day. It happens every five years or so when the level of cholestrol and triglycerides is checked. The lady at the path lab was quick and painless and contrary to expectation, I did not leak blood all morning. Mini aspirins do that to you – one hard knock yields a three-week bruise and you can tear your skin open on a sharp cardboard box.

So far there has never been any unpleasant report, and I expect none now. But I cannot help feeling that as time goes on they should be looking for different molecules in there:

1. kindergartenol – the chemical that signals the level of childishness in the blood. The basic path lab test is to plate the sample out onto a miniature slice of buttered white bread. Then put it into an incubator overnight. If it grows Hundreds and Thousands you can assume the patient is getting more childish as they get older.

2. 3-4 detro-rotatory dememnonic riboflupin – this is a molecule that measures the tendency to leave your good pair of reading glasses in a safe place. A very safe place. Where are those goddamn glasses…?

3. crustaceumite dihyroxide – the definitive quantifier for the degree of crabbiness that exists. Elevated levels of this indicate a tendency to write scathing letters to the “Times” about where the crispy bacon that we got before the war has gone to. Families can be warned when the level rises to 999,999 parts per million, though they may have already come to suspect something by then.

4. aquisitionase – the enzyme that causes the patient to buy 3 cubic metres of tomato paste in tiny little cans. Or collect iron ore companies and leases. It is frequently found in conjunction with…

5. chazerase – the chemical that makes the patient act like a chazer. Not a bad thing to find in a Berkshire sow but disturbing in the owner of the sow. Or the iron ore lease.

6. sentamentalium chloride crystals – these form in the presence of small cats and dogs, though not if they have been baked with a honey sauce and small potatoes.

7. scamium – small traces of this element render the patient unable to resist internet offers of love, fortune, or tea-towel racks that play the 70’s greatest hits.

I would suggest incorporation of these simple tests into the standard bloodbath but I am unsure how to approach the owners of the pathology labs. I am afraid that they exist on a higher plane than I and apart from making burnt offerings on a altar I can think of no other way of communicating with them.



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