Trolleyed

After a longish wait from 11.30am until 2.45pm, I finally got a chance to see one of the new Stryker trolleys I got in an emergency for the Endoscopy Suite last December. They are a bit stiff to manoeuvre I was told. I'll keep it in mind when the time comes to replace them in 18 years from now... 
The consultant who performed the endoscopy was super chatty and friendly, while still managing to work at an impressively fast pace. She couldn't give me the full anaesthesia as I explained that I was going back home on public transport. I had a feeling that she equates Dublin public transport with travelling unarmed through a war zone. She couldn't bring herself to give me a substance that would leave me at the mercy of the guys on the Luas Red line who spend a good part of their day trying to mug people to buy the substance she would not give me... 
It means that this time I was able to see and remember the whole procedure, it wasn't that bad at all and we were able to establish that my gagging reflex works just fine, thank you. I even got to catch a glimpse of the inside of my stomach and my duodenum and they look rather pretty, even if I say so myself.  
I thanked her again for shoving a scope inside of my most intimate and inner parts and reiterated that I would vote for Macron on Sunday, 
She thanked me for the new Stryker trolleys. Even though they are bit stiff to manoeuvre. 
The discharge nurse was adamant that I wasn't too drive or operate machinery or sign legal papers for the next 24 hours. 
I acquiesced and waited for my boss to release me from the recovery room (they would let me go on my own...) 
When I got to Dun Laoghaire after the Luas (I wasn't mugged) and the Dart (I wasn't mugged), I picked up my bike from the repair shop and headed for the end of the west pier. 
The discharge nurse never said anything about not diving off the end of the west pier.