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Summoned to see GP to discuss routine test results. Appointment set for over a week away, so I'm obviously not quite at death's door. Ironically, barring a few quibbles, I've not felt so good for over a decade. That should have made me suspicious.
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Now the dentist's just called to confirm I can make my next appointment, to formulate a plan of attack based on the impressionist landscape of Stonehenge at dusk that a radiologist generated yesterday using a prop from 2001 A Space Odyssey and the remains of my teeth. Never get old.