Pricey

HE said, “You need an X- Ray”. I said, “Don’t call me Ray, it’s Steve, and can I have a XXXX instead of one X”. Not the time to be frivolous, that’s for sure – the look from the Doc nearly put me under, without anaesthetic.

So off I trotted to the X- ray, not the XXXX- ray, nothing serious, just a peep inside. Upon arrival, and a chat to the nurse, she said the CT takes slices – not only am I missing out on a XXXX, but they’re taking slices of me!

OK, I’m being silly but it was a good experience – they were lovely girls, and I did thank them for the real surprise: no gowns that tie at the back. You know the ones, near impossible to do up, and they inevitably fall open as you walk through the waiting room, revealing the inside- out jocks you put on at 3.30am, or worse still, one’s bottom.

Most disconcerting for those waiting to be called. Imagine: in my haste in the very early morn I’d put on Barb’s nickers ... forget I mentioned it. Lined up to go through the big Philips X- ray thingo, I remembered the nurse say they take slices, so knowing full well that Philips makes shavers, I nearly bolted.

Then I hear an American voice say, ‘ Tayyyk ayy breath, hold’, which I did, but I thought how nice it would be for an Aussie voice or even a fair dinkum North Queenslander saying “G’day, breathe in, mate. Hold it for a sec, eh!” and then they say breathe normally, but what if they forgot to tell you!

All went well, gown didn’t fall open, and they said “breathe’’, so a good day to X- ray. Thanks, girls ... and I guess thanks, Ray.

If you read my offering last week, I made it south to say farewell to my dear mate Brigadier Neil Weekes with three minutes to spare. I’d never been to a full military funeral; I felt so very privileged. Thanks to Neil’s family for making me feel so welcome. I’ll never ever forget it, especially the lone piper bringing Neil to us, to the music Going Home.

I’d like to suggest to our council a fitting memorial for this great man. Only small, but I think so very important. He will be honoured in our museum, but that’s rightfully military. What of us, the civilians who benefited from Neil’s work for a better understanding of the needs of vets and young Diggers?

He wanted us all to have Jezzine, fought for it. So can we have a Townsville stone, from our hill, in the Jezzine grounds for Neil. And of course with his favourite words, “Lead, follow or get out of the way’’.

P. S. Today is the anniversary of the loss of the SS Yongala.

You know the ones, near impossible to do up, and they inevitably fall open as you walk through the waiting room, revealing the inside- out jocks you put on at 3.30am