Magic potions and vampires on an ill-advised trip to Aberdeen - Susan Morrison

Quite how a city built on pick ‘n’ mix and orange people, in hue and belief, managed to get a world of sweeties and oompa-loompas so wrong is baffling. Once the drink is taken, it dyes any nasty bits inside that might need further investigation. It’s like those tablets you chew to highlight plaque on your teeth.

It required two days of pre-planning. The drink had to be taken at specific times on days one and two. Some foods were banned. No food at all after a certain time on day two. No milk in tea or coffee. Clear fluids only.

Dire side-effects were warned. The drink could cause the bowel to clear in a hurry. I stayed home on day one, but on day two I had to go to Aberdeen, a little trip I had been looking forward to, since I was to travel First Class and had fully intended to indulge in all the perks, benefits and drinks from the trolley.

Dose One of the magic potion hadn’t caused any of those cataclysmic side-effects, so I laughed in the face of the NHS pamphlet and decided it was safe to go. I’d take Dose Two on the train at the appointed hour.

The day before the scan meant no food and only clear fluids. This did not include gin or LNER Sauvignon Blanc.

My word, those LNER staff are brilliant at bringing round that trolley. Solicitous crew members constantly materialised at my elbow, proffering toasted teacakes, chicken casserole and crisps. There was the offer of tea, coffee and endless cold drinks.

But no, I shunned them all, lurking in Seat K-34 like a vampire hiding from the sunlight. Yes, alright, I will admit, I broke at Arbroath. Driven mad by the scent of coffee and the sight of yet more biscuits being thrown about the place I cracked and took a small bottle of sparkling water.

At the appointed hour on the way home, down went Dose Two. I had no idea what a stupid risk I was taking, boys and girls. I do now.

Safely home, complained loud and long to my husband. It’s in his job description to listen to me bumping my gums. No side effects, said I. Bowel clearing indeed.

At five minutes past midnight I discovered just how effective this stuff is at power-washing the system. I know you are all of a gentle disposition, so I’ll not go into detail, let’s just say I put in a serious shift on that throne. At least it was my own loo, and not LNER’s.

At the Western, the radiologist asked me what I had done the day before the scan. I told her. Train to Aberdeen. Her eyebrows went up so far they vanished into her hairline. The words “you are an eejit” were quite clearly in her mind, but she said, with a bemused little smile: “Bold choice. Even First Class train toilets are grim”.

Note to self. Read and believe instructions in future.