Thurles Information

“I have absolutely no faith in doctors, consultant or surgeons”, said Mikey Ryan, “In fact I would go so far as to state publicly that I have no faith in Shannon Doc or even the nursing fraternity as a whole, and I’m including the Health Service Executive (HSE).”

We were above in the Arch Bar in Liberty Square, on our usual little Thursday night soirée, when Mikey first broke the news regarding the predicament his first cousin Dick Palmer (on the wife’s side you understand, but nevertheless a young strapping lad), had found himself in last week.

To cut a long story short, according to Mikey, Dick Palmer had been attending his doctor for a long time, complaining of chronic headaches, latter mostly during the daylight hours. Eventually he was fast tracked back in 2010, and placed on a waiting list to see a brain consultant in February 2018.

I’ll let Mikey takes up the story from here:-
“The consultant says to Dick; Mr Palmer I can cure your headache problem. However, more distressing for you will be the fact that the only cure will require that you be completely castrated”.  Mikey continued “You have a very rare condition, which causes your testis to press up against your spine and this constant pressure, in turn, creates the series of headaches you are suffering, during daylight hours. The only way to relieve this pressure, I am afraid, is to remove both testicles”.

“Now”, stated the consultant, “I can set a date to surgically remove your testicles at, shall we say, 10.00am on May 4th 2024, or if you hold Vhi Health Insurance, we can schedule to fit you in for this very necessary surgery, say after lunch today; the cost, including an anaesthetist for this surgery, being about €8,000.”

“Dick’s sudden shock, almost immediately turned to chronic depression”, Mikey declared, “wondering if he had anything worthwhile left to continue his life.  Then it dawned on him; money doesn’t grow on trees (Except of course in the case of Marijuana.), and look at all the money he would save into the future, by not having to buy large packets of Panadol tablets every single day. He quickly pulled himself together, realising if the headaches were to subside, he would have no choice but to accept this costly surgery, that very same afternoon.”

Waking up after his surgery, and due to the shortage of trolley’s, not to mention beds in Limerick University Hospital (UHL), he left this overcrowded medical venue for home just four hours later, without any headache, for the first time in 18 years, but nevertheless still feeling he was missing an important part of himself.
As he walked from Thurles Railway Station, down Friar Street, towards Liberty Square, bow legged and imitating the walk of a duck, due to heavy bandaging; he realized that he would have to make a whole new start to constructing a completely different lifestyle.”
He spotted the numerous men’s clothing shop on Friar Street and thought to himself, “Now, what I need is a new suit to begin my new lifestyle“, and on entering the shop he thus informed the salesman of his need.

The elderly salesman eyed Dick up and down briefly, before announcing, “Let’s see, would I be right in stating a size 44 “.
Dick smiled for the first time in 18 years, “That’s right, but how did you know?”
“Ah, sure I’ve been in this business 50 years”, said the salesman as Dick tried on the only remaining Windowpane Check suit, which fitted him like a glove.

As Dick admired himself in the full-length mirror, the salesman asked, “Would Sir be also requiring a shirt perhaps”.  Joe thought for a moment and then said, “Ah, sure why not, after all you only live once.”
The salesman eyed Dick and said, “Let’s see, 34 sleeves with a 16½ inch collar?”
Dick was again surprised, “That’s right, how did you know?”
“Ah, sure I’ve been in this business 50 years”, said the salesman

Dick tried on the ‘Gant’ pink shirt, to find it fitted him like a charm. As Dick walked penguin-like around the shop getting a feel for his new clobber, the salesman asked, “How about some new underpants?” Dick thought for a moment before saying, “Sure, in for a penny, in for a pound.”
The salesman stared briefly before declaring “Let’s see …… a size 36.”
Dick smiled, “Ah ha, with all your experience, you’ve got that one wrong, I’ve worn a size 34 since I was about 16 years old”.
The salesman shook his head, “No you can’t have worn a size 34. A size 34 underpants would have pressed your testicles up against the base of your spine and given you one hell of a series of headaches, especially during daylight hours.”