I can’t shake it….


I have had the message once…..now don’t panic, we are in A & E. I did panic and got there as quickly as I could.
I found myself in A and E last week, and in telling some of my friends, the first reaction was one of hilarity.
There are a few special people in this world who when you say you are in A and E with a broken derrière that don’t laugh and who offer to drive a fair distance to sit with you ( well stand) and the ones who just keep you company via text as you sit there trying not to look like you are auditioning for a lap dancing club.
I have always been a huge fan of the nhs and have nothing but praise for them and even more so after spending 7 hours in A and E watching the adventures.
We had one man who was rather worse for wear. He asked the receptionist to help him use his phone as he couldn’t see the numbers. When he started asking all of us for 40p for a cup of tea, they sneaked him out a cup of tea.
When he fell asleep and woke up claiming that someone had stolen his tea and was working up to kicking off,they made home more. ( incidentally, he had drunk the tea)
I watched as two young girls came through from being examined who started kicking off as the doctor had told her that her ankle was not broken. “What do I pay my taxes for? It is broken and I need a cast” her pal reminded her she was a student and didn’t pay tax.
Out came a new mum with the tiniest baby and a tired looking grandma. An equally tired daddy appeared with milk for the baby and the look of relief…..
A lady appeared in her dressing gown claiming she was dying, and she too was handled with tact and dignity. Turns out, she was just a bit worse for wear. ( it was between 1030pm and 5am.
I saw the triage nurses who were great and was sent back out to the waiting room. More people arriving, people falling, fights, a guy who had stabbed his own hand and I watched as the staff coped beautifully, reassured relatives and kept everyone calm.
I waited patiently and was moved to another waiting room.
2 elderly gentlemen arrived in as their good ladies were in A and E. A night out at the local club had got a bit brisk. They proceeded to dissect the night with the same outrageous take on behaviour as I would with the girls. They then moved on to talk about their pensions, downfalls, lump sums, leaving a will and wasn’t it a disgrace that one of their friends left all the money to the church when he died and not a penny to his family. ” it’ll take more than money to get him a place in heaven”
I would have laughed but at that point even the slightest of movement was a nightmare.
The doctor apologised profusely – he looked shattered. We did the chatting, he did other things to see how bad the damage was (I am never going to speak of again) and was sent on my way to get scanned.
After having X Rays taking in places that quite frankly shouldn’t be allowed, my new lap dancing demeanour was attributed to a bruised coccyx and potential nerve damage.
My night owl pals kept me company the whole time via daft messages and pictures and it was very welcome indeed.
The injury was sustained on the ice rink. No, there was not bevvy involved.
As the very lovely AS said to me, this is hilarious, you work really hard and now you have officially bust your ass.
Got to laugh. ( but it hurts)


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