There will be blood

I had my first company medical on 15 January 1991. It was all done in something of a rush – I’d just that morning passed a client interview and as a result was set to go to Thailand as soon as they could get me there. Being nervous I naturally relieved myself beforehand.....

Somehow I got through the medical – except that I couldn’t provide a sample. They gave me about four injections anyway – tetanus, hepatitis A, Hepatitis B, polio (I think) and said come back and give one later. So I went out, had a Big Mac and large coke, and did my duty.

Unfortunately – probably due to the large coke – there was a trace of sugar in there. The nurse didn’t think it significant – so I went home and got a flight back to Milan (where I was working on assignment) next day.

Later that day some of my Italian colleagues came round in a bit of a panic – there was a telex (remember those?) from home office to call the nurse. It seems the doctor wanted a second sample.

This is where it all got difficult. I went to a clinic recommended by our Italian office – only to be informed they needed 24 hours worth of the stuff. This wasn’t practicable so I thought about a flight back for a weekend in the UK. This was ruled out when – thanks to something known as the Gulf War starting – the company banned air travel. I figured it would have to wait until de-mobilisation from Italy – until I was recommended a “British” clinic in Milan. I rang them – yes they could do the test – no they didn’t want 24 hours worth – but to be sure – let’s have some blood!


Blood! Like most blokes I’m a coward when it comes to people sticking needles in me and even more so when they use them to extract blood. I couldn’t even cut myself at school for the biology lesson on blood! So it was a case of get there early, lie down and get it over with.
Thankfully the blood was OK – common or garden O+ variety – and I didn’t have diabetes.

Since then I’ve had to undergo this ritual several times. In China we had to have a medical that comprised weight, height, chest x- ray and blood sample. After seeing them try both arms on the tough Aussie who went first I was thankful that the next bloke let me jump the queue so I could get it over with before I blacked out or the adrenalin kicked in and I ran off screaming.


My last medical was in 2005 in Thailand. I took care to sit down and keep looking leftwards as the nurse did something to my right arm. When she’d finished she tapped me to say something. I turned – and there – in front of my nose she was holding a vial of my blood. Argh! “Sorry mister “she says” “is this the right name?”

I climbed down from the ceiling and assured her it was correct. As the other assignee sat watching said “you didn’t want to see that, did you?”

I got notification this morning of the need to have a medical prior to going to India.

No doubt “there will be blood” as they say.