There is a baleful presence in my hallway; a pale, twisted Munchian face hovering just below the ceiling, soulless and blank, glowing slightly in the reflected half-light and staring eyelessly across the room, open mouth screaming silently into the void.
It is, of course, the Orfit mask which until Thursday was used to strap my head tightly to the zapping table at the Beatson, lest the death-rays miss and burn out 1982 instead of cauterising some tumour cavity.
Feb 18 2012: Getting a head
There is a baleful presence in my hallway; a pale, twisted Munchian face hovering just below the ceiling, soulless and blank, glowing slightly in the reflected half-light and staring eyelessly across the room, open mouth screaming silently into the void.
It is, of course, the Orfit mask which until Thursday was used to strap my head tightly to the zapping table at the Beatson, lest the death-rays miss and burn out 1982 instead of cauterising some tumour cavity.
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Don't show me this again.