Is It In My Head?

So off I go to get endoscopy and ... piece of f'n piss. It helped that that person shoving camera and surprisingly thick cable down my throath told me beforehand that, although she was still a trainee and not fully qualified, she had done this "82 times", asked me if I wanted her more experienced colleague to carry out the procedure. I scoffed at the suggestion and mutterred something about shitting myself whoever done it. But she was nice and the nurse, who, literally, held my hand and head during the whole process, was even better, made it all okay.
At the end of it all I thought: "Well, is that it?"
In saying that, though, it was well weird and I did wretch a couple of times and found it well uncomfortable when they pumped air directly into my stomach - but fuck all really. And no sore throat afterwards either.
Anyway, as I suspected, they found nothing. The possibility/probability is that my throat muscles are not working properly and that my GP will have to prescribe something to sort that out - i.e. a muscle relaxant.
As for tonight - was I the only one thinking that anything lower than an 8-0 loss would be a good result? What a performance. On any other night, Stevie Crawford would have had a hat trick. 1-0 to us at half-time seemed like we were hard done by - until, of course, we realised we had been playing Spain.
Not just on this performance, but there is no way that we can get a better manager than Berti Vogts. I'm so happy that he has stayed this long. I will always remember seeing him in the press conference after the game when we held Germany to a 1-1 draw at Hampden (just a matter of months before they got themselves to the World Cup Final) and I don't think I had ever in my life seen a more proud man.