Medical History
I believe it was Churchill who said
History is written by the victors
delivered, one imagines, dryly with
a dash of pith, an ounce or two of gin,
words clipped and formed in the space above
his derbied chalk hill dome from gathering
clouds of ominous blue cigar smoke,
veddy proper, tickety-boo and all
that rot. A life insurance policy
after all, read in a British accent
is boilerplate made sublime, all this
as I sit in the waiting room checking
off rows of little boxes, writing
my medical history, to be read
aloud in the event of my demise
by Englishmen; Bill Nighy on
the subject of my LDL levels,
Patrick Stewart breathing life into a
family penchant for colon cancer or
Gary Oldham giving a dignified
reading from the list of male fore-bearers
who’ve toppled headlong over the pale
clutching their chests. Perhaps Steve Coogan
or some surviving Python could coax a
chuckle at the expense of my total
hip replacement, snatching victory from
the jaws of inevitable defeat.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC
Medical History
I believe it was Churchill who said
History is written by the victors
delivered, one imagines, dryly with
a dash of pith, an ounce or two of gin,
words clipped and formed in the space above
his derbied chalk hill dome from gathering
clouds of ominous blue cigar smoke,
veddy proper, tickety-boo and all
that rot. A life insurance policy
after all, read in a British accent
is boilerplate made sublime, all this
as I sit in the waiting room checking
off rows of little boxes, writing
my medical history, to be read
aloud in the event of my demise
by Englishmen; Bill Nighy on
the subject of my LDL levels,
Patrick Stewart breathing life into a
family penchant for colon cancer or
Gary Oldham giving a dignified
reading from the list of male fore-bearers
who’ve toppled headlong over the pale
clutching their chests. Perhaps Steve Coogan
or some surviving Python could coax a
chuckle at the expense of my total
hip replacement, snatching victory from
the jaws of inevitable defeat.
