Laughin' all the way to the tram

The other day, I had to get a physical exam and chest x-ray as a formality for my Australian visa. Apparently they need to ensure that I'm relatively healthy and won't be a burden on the Aussie health system for the whopping few remaining months that I'm here Down Under. Anyways...I presented myself to reception and the nice lady there said, "Just take a seat and we'll call you when we're ready for you, Possum."

Hold on! Double take. Did I hear her correctly?!

When my name was called, I did the drill -- inappropriate touching by a doctor (Russian-born, he seemed more interested in talking hockey than feeling me up); chest x-ray (apparently my chest is bigger than normal, so they needed to take two separate x-rays to cover my massive expanse); blood pressure (a perfect score, thank you) -- and seemed to be given a clean bill of health. And then I went past reception on my way out...

...and she called me Possum again.

And I knew I was in the land of Dame Edna. And, of course, thought of my dear friend Suzie, who does a mean Dame impression.

I laughed all the way to the tram.