I got a bit bored after the fifth or sixth tug, and I dinnae mean the ones in Leith harbour.
So I moved onto my next trick; sticking things where they just shouldn't go...
Despite my meticulous planning; ensuring my "inserted" phone was on vibrate and charged, my mum's mobile only had enough credit for one text - the devil is in the detail, or in my colon as it turned out.
So I am just back from the Royal Infirmary Accident & Emergency department, it was a fine morning for a waddle. Mind you that was the most painful Sunday morning stroll I have ever taken, I was hoping my clumsy gait would dislodge the Nokia before I arrived, butt to no avail.
I spent 20 minutes circumventing a sensible explanation of my "situation" to the stoney faced receptionist at the admissions desk - "phone, colon, interface, experiment" just didn't fit any of the tick boxes on the admissions form. She wouldn't even let me use the hospital phone to call my concealed (congealed?) mobile despite my protestations that even a prisoner gets one call - I was hoping the vibration might aid removal, and if not I could always dive off to the loo...
The registrar who extricated it was very nice, and I felt less embarrassed when she explained that "this sort of thing" was much more common than you'd credit.
She even gave me the X-Ray for my photie album...
What did you do with your Sunday morning?
As I thought...
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