A mate of mine hurt his knee skiing moguls. Now I know what you’re thinking. Why the hell is a guy who’s fifty doing moguls? What’s he trying to prove? He obviously has no idea of his age, right? Mid-life crisis? Idiot?

Anyway, he stuffs his knee and just to be on the safe side, gets rescued by the ski patrol. All very embarrassing… for a man of his age.

On Tuesday he goes to Dr Robert the knee specialist back in Hornswood (being the dynamic little suburbs from Hornsby to Chatswood). He’s hoping he’s only done minor damage, but he suspects he may have really strained it badly.

They’re sitting in Dr Robert’s surgery looking at his knee X-ray. My mate has just arrived back after having visited Dr Robert’s colleague (Dr Colin) who works next door, for a second opinion.

Now my mate is an obsessed skier and he has a huge New Zealand trip booked in the next few weeks and he and his wife at home are absolutely desperate for his injury to be minor. Desperate!

Dr Robert dials Dr Colin.

My mate – “Any chance you could put him on speaker, so I hear his opinion also?“

My mate knows if he listens closely to the subtle intonations in Dr Colin’s voice, he may be able to work out to what degree he’s really damaged his knee. Probably it would be more about what Dr Colin doesn’t say, in his professional, guarded, doctor speak that will give him the real picture. My mate’s an astute business negotiator, he’ll easily work the true gravity of the situation just by listening to their doctor-to-doctor conversation, if it’s on speaker.

Dr Robert – “Sure.” He does so. “Colin! Robert here. How are you?”

My mate listened intently, being ready to pick up any subtle bit of information from Dr Colin’s tone.

Dr Colin – “MATE I’M NOT COMPLETELY FUCKED LIKE THAT GUY YOU JUST SENT ME. Hold on to him like he’s fucking gold Robert! Ha ha! He’s paying for your son’s next two terms of school fees!”

Dr Robert (after a pause) – “I’ll call you back Colin.”

PLEASE USE THE BUTTONS BELOW TO SHARE FAR AND WIDE.

Thanks for reading. I write blogs oftentimes just to be able to claim when meeting a new person at a Hornswood party, that I am in fact… a writer (whereby my wife generally jumps in and proclaims “he’s actually NOT a writer”). If you could Share far and wide via the buttons below, that would be amazing. I write stuff for a few small companies, but I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art of blogging. And check out the brilliant new craft-beer home delivery business I have set up with a few North Shore dads (gettincrafty.com.au) Cheers