Lost in translation ..... again

If you’ve read “Letters” you’ll have an idea what a minefield I find trying to speak/understand another language.  Here’s another example.

On a recent visit to our G.P., the good man listened patiently (as he always does) to my mutterings and when I had finished, said to me IN ENGLISH  “I’d like to see your bladder”.

Ok, now perhaps I should explain a few things here before I continue.   Firstly our doctor is a “nuclear specialist” which means he’s into imaging techniques and has an ultrasound-scanning machine in his surgery. Secondly, like many Italians he likes to practise his English when he sees me. 

I hopped up onto the examination table as directed and bared my stomach.  The doctor poured that freezing cold gel on (does anyone know why it’s so cold?) and began to pass the camera just under my ribs.  I thought to myself, “well I don’t know, but I’m sure when I was at school my bladder wasn’t there” but being far to busy trying to make out what was on screen I didn’t dwell on the thought.

“It’s nothing” the doctor began (in Italian now) “just a cyst”.   

Vito realising I might not be familiar with some of the words, translated as the doctor spoke. I’ve never had to discuss my bladder before, or anyone else’s here for that matter, so why would I be familiar with the word?  It’s not the kind of thing that comes up in general conversation is it?  I mean do you, on meeting an old friend say “Oh hi!  It’s been ages since I saw you, how’s your bladder these days?”  Or  “I was just thinking of you and your bladder”.  See what I mean?

“Ah but you’ve got a stone!,”  the doctor continued

My ears pricked up.  “Diamond? Ruby?”

“No, just a stone”.  I looked over at Vito to confirm. He nodded.

“Well that’ll be something to look forward to”  (not).

“And a polyp”

“In for a penny, in for a pound”

The doctor handed me some paper to wipe off the gel and beckoned to the chair in front of his desk and as I wriggled my clothing back into some sort of order, he chatted to Vito.  I’ll admit I was listening until I heard him say

“If you want my advice, I think you should have it out”.

Stop the world, I want to get off!!!

“You want to take out my bladder?” 

 “It’s nothing” the doctor said mildly.

“It’s nothing????” I screeched in English carried there on a wave of hysteria.

“My wife had it done”

“Your wife had her bladder taken out?” (He said it so calmly.  What kind of monster was he?????)

And then my brain (finally) clicked into gear.

“GALLbaldder” I shouted at him

“Yes, bladder” he agreed.

“No not bladder, GALLbladder”

“What’s bladder then?”

I cupped my hands into a ball shape, “it’s where pee pee is made”

“Oh”.

Nearly had a heart attack!