The boom is too low so the sound of very contrived lines is muffled between my ears, Sir. Not enough frames per second and my eyes catch photographic stills, each second of cheesy low-budget action freeze-framed. Reality in a perma-strobe light effect. The eye candy of this late night re-run is leaning over my body. Too pallid again. Experienced make-up artists aren’t easy to come by nowadays, Sir. This ham that’s “saving my life” is at the brink of tears; his speckled saliva dripping onto me and flicking across the ICU as he defiantly barks order after order at that well-endowed intern. She’s so ornate that only in a situation like this would be by my side. At least it’s not as foot-shufflingly awkward as it could be. The director yells “Cut”.

The screen has faded to black now, Sir, and the programme’s sponsor flash up like paparazzi cameras. Amytal sodium capsules, 200mg sized red and blue Tuinal bullet capsules, lipstick red Seconals. Even Valerian root. Every thirty seconds is an unwanted ad for phosphatidylethanolamine and if your lucky, nitrogentrichloride. Sir, they’re spoon feeding us unreliable advice as if it was strained peas from a baby food jar. Pharmaceutical companies are like mechanics. Regular grease monkeys telling you problems you don’t have so you buy parts you don’t need. Non-specific drugs for non-specific symptoms. A pill for tiredness, a caplet for dry skin in winter; and brand new stock- a vitamin tablet that cures long toenails.

Back to the show, Sir, and I’m cured of my terrible disease. Maybe this over-compensating masculine cornball can do something right. Nowadays, as doctors are better equipped; as the quality of the instruments rises, medical personnel get steadily lazier when treating human conditions. Maybe they think that they don’t need to try Sir. Sir, maybe as the bar for medical technology is set higher, the training level for new recruits drops dramatically. Now Sir, it’s: stethoscope (dadum, dadum), injection (in, out); diagnose (3rd time lucky); cure. When I say cure, Sir, I don’t mean that doctors nowadays rid patients of diseases or illnesses. They cure them of life. Some people might be slightly annoyed or get fucking pissed off. But Sir, Sir I’m grateful. I’m cured of the most lethal human condition.