And that's it. Apparently, that's how simple it is nowadays.
What IS it with people my age getting engaged all of a sudden?
Two people that played significant parts of my childhood have recently announced their engagements to their other halves, and I can't help but wonder....
Where did the girl go, who ran around Sittingbourne with me, singing Take That at the tops of our voices and laughing about utterly ridiculous crap? She's now stiletto ridden on the weekends, with a car, and now apparently a fiancee.
The other 20 year old who has recently facebooked the "happy news" was my first kiss. The older, attractive musician he was to me back then has completely faded, and he's just another shittingbourne turn out.
Why are people getting married so young now? What happened to wanting to see the world? Travelling? Getting your heart broken, and learning to be strong enough to pick up the pieces and put yourself back together again? Loving ourselves before we could love anyone else?
No? Is it only me that wants that?
Okay, fine.
Friday, 20 July 2012
Sunday, 15 July 2012
My night in A&E
Friday 13th is usually a pretty good day for me. I do believe in certain superstitions, Magpies and whatnot, but as 13 is my lucky number, I've never had any bad luck on Friday's that happened to fall on the 13th.
That was true, up until this year.
As the clock ticked over to Friday 13th of July 2012, I was sat, alone, just having had an x-ray to check if I had any shards of glass in my hand. It turns out I didn't, but I'll fill you in on what happened anyways.
7pm (Thurs 12, July); I literally am dying to go home at this point, I've been at work since 10:30am and all I want to do is go home, have a shower and an early night.
7.20pm (Thurs, 12 July); A guy had just come over to the tills, where I was stood, to let me know he'd just smashed a tester on the floor, by accident. No big deal, I said, I'll call a cleaner. But just before I had intended to, I thought I'd survey the damage myself.
Attempting to clear the larger sections of glass out of other customers way, I picked some up and took them to bin, just as I stood up from crouching, from collecting my second lot, my left foot slipped out from underneath me, and I couldn't do anything but put my hands out in front of me to catch my fall. It was only in doing so, that I sliced a piece of the glass through my left ring finger, just below the knuckle.
8pm; Having been picked up by a random member of staff who didn't belong to my concession, I was taken to the office, had some forms filled out, and had the first aider come to see me. Next thing I knew, I was on the way to The Whittington hospital in North London to get stitches.
10pm; I was now at The Whittington, having been through triage, just waiting. Seeing as I was slightly less important than the man with half a bike-pedal in his leg, I didn't really mind waiting at this stage.
11pm; Still waiting. Bike man was now gone, and everyone else being called through had no obvious ailments. I was seriously considering taking a nap on the floor of the A&E.
11.45pm; I sent my colleague home, as I was called in (FINALLY) to be looked at by an on-call doctor, who looked at my hand and made it bleed a little more, only to finally make me squirm as she pulled off the two plasters my first aider had put on (never ever put plasters on an untreated laceration) Then eventually she sent me for an X-Ray.
12:30am (Friday 13, July); Waiting on the other side of the door now. The door that separates the waiting room from the ward, and everyone knows it's always better to be on the ward side than on the waiting room side. I had had my x-ray, and no glass was left it seems, which is good, and no visible nerve or tendon damage, which is also good.
1am (Friday 13, July); Now I was sat in a procedure room having DR Josie Small attend to my wound. First of all, she cleaned it up, which hurt what I thought was a lot, then she started the ring-block anasthetic. Oh holy Christ did that hurt! Imagine jamming a needle into your digit 8 times? Right, now imagine doing that when you already have a giant laceration on your finger. It hurt more than a Tragus piercing. And that is saying something. But after, thank God, I was completely numb. I couldn't feel anything as I watched her put three simple stitches into my finger.
"Tough skin" she said, when she couldn't get the needle through. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don't want tough, ugly builders hands.
2am; (Friday 13, July); and now I was home. Crawling into my bed, tired, deflated and not wanting to go into work in 9 hours. Thankfully, my boss text me telling me I was in no way to come to work, and that I should rest.
And thus concludes my one and only trip to A & E to get stitches.
I can safely say I won't be doing that in a hurry.
LT
That was true, up until this year.
As the clock ticked over to Friday 13th of July 2012, I was sat, alone, just having had an x-ray to check if I had any shards of glass in my hand. It turns out I didn't, but I'll fill you in on what happened anyways.
7pm (Thurs 12, July); I literally am dying to go home at this point, I've been at work since 10:30am and all I want to do is go home, have a shower and an early night.
7.20pm (Thurs, 12 July); A guy had just come over to the tills, where I was stood, to let me know he'd just smashed a tester on the floor, by accident. No big deal, I said, I'll call a cleaner. But just before I had intended to, I thought I'd survey the damage myself.
Attempting to clear the larger sections of glass out of other customers way, I picked some up and took them to bin, just as I stood up from crouching, from collecting my second lot, my left foot slipped out from underneath me, and I couldn't do anything but put my hands out in front of me to catch my fall. It was only in doing so, that I sliced a piece of the glass through my left ring finger, just below the knuckle.
8pm; Having been picked up by a random member of staff who didn't belong to my concession, I was taken to the office, had some forms filled out, and had the first aider come to see me. Next thing I knew, I was on the way to The Whittington hospital in North London to get stitches.
10pm; I was now at The Whittington, having been through triage, just waiting. Seeing as I was slightly less important than the man with half a bike-pedal in his leg, I didn't really mind waiting at this stage.
11.45pm; I sent my colleague home, as I was called in (FINALLY) to be looked at by an on-call doctor, who looked at my hand and made it bleed a little more, only to finally make me squirm as she pulled off the two plasters my first aider had put on (never ever put plasters on an untreated laceration) Then eventually she sent me for an X-Ray.
1am (Friday 13, July); Now I was sat in a procedure room having DR Josie Small attend to my wound. First of all, she cleaned it up, which hurt what I thought was a lot, then she started the ring-block anasthetic. Oh holy Christ did that hurt! Imagine jamming a needle into your digit 8 times? Right, now imagine doing that when you already have a giant laceration on your finger. It hurt more than a Tragus piercing. And that is saying something. But after, thank God, I was completely numb. I couldn't feel anything as I watched her put three simple stitches into my finger.
"Tough skin" she said, when she couldn't get the needle through. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don't want tough, ugly builders hands.
2am; (Friday 13, July); and now I was home. Crawling into my bed, tired, deflated and not wanting to go into work in 9 hours. Thankfully, my boss text me telling me I was in no way to come to work, and that I should rest.
And thus concludes my one and only trip to A & E to get stitches.
I can safely say I won't be doing that in a hurry.
LT
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