Before I get on to the events of the other Saturday I will return to my post (Send for a plumber) which was about what I said was my fourth visit to A&E. It was in fact my fifth trip to A&E – I had forgotten about my second visit. (The first was when I thought I had broken my ankle, the third was when I ran a temperature when on chemotherapy and the fourth was when my platelets went missing.)
The missing second visit was when we were rescuers for our local wildlife hospital. We got all the bigger (and in some cases messier) animals – swans, foxes, badgers and deer. This time it was one of the smaller deer, a muntjac, which had been hit by a car and was concussed. It was spotted by another driver who was able to pick it up and put it in the front footwell of their car. I was told that it was very docile. However when I opened the car door and went to grab an antler (always my first move with a male muntjac) he immediately leapt up and bounced around the car, onto the parcel shelf, into me and on to the parcel shelf. My face felt wet and I realised that I had a couple of cuts. I shut the door and stepped back. After liberal application of elastoplast I returned with a large net which I put over him before grabbing his antlers and picking him up. I put him in a deer shaped box and took him back to the hospital. By the next day he had recovered well enough to be released. Meanwhile I headed off to A&E where I was patched up with stitches on my cheek and above my eye. It could have been much worse. The rather noticeable gauze and tape covering much of my face caused a number of comments at work the next day.
The other day I was looking at a letter from my consultant that started “I saw this 71 year old gentleman . . .” and thought I wonder who he is talking about. Anyway it looks as if I am going to add another “-ology” to my list of consultants. A week or so ago I went to Ward 12C (Urology) to be TWOC’d. It is in the hospital’s newer building built on what used to be Wycombe Wanderers football ground (they have gone off to the end of an industrial estate at the edge of town). I was shown into a day room with a balcony overlooking, well, a sort of triangular courtyard and walls with spikes on to keep the pigeons off. Unlike previous hospital visits I didn’t get weighed or measured or checked to see that I still had a pulse.
Continue reading “TWOC’d and Sky-boshed”