stoned

well, dear readers, this weekend has not been entirely relaxing. it boded well. mrs prof was coming to visit and there were plans for chilling out.

on saturday afternoon herself and my boy went off to their club with mrs captain, the wild girl and my boy's friend. they had no sooner got in mrs captain's car and set off for home when mrs captain grabbed her side and shrieked in pain. at this point they were approaching a level crossing. i should point out that mrs captain was driving. herself grabbed the wheel and steered the car into a side road and then into the curb. by this time mrs captain was in agony. but being a bit of a stalwart she said "i'm ok, its just a twinge" (herself later related that this was a twinge that looked considerably worse than childbirth). herself managed to persuade mrs captain that driving in this state was rather foolhardy and that she should take over. mrs captain pulled herself round to the passenger seat and with a bit of help was heaved in. having removed mrs captain from the driving seat herself insisted that accident and emergency was the only place they were going, in spite of protestations from mrs captain that she would be fine.

there then followed what sounds like a hair-raising bit of driving even by herself's standards. mrs captain has a rather large vehicle which would seat a football team. herself has not until now been allowed to take the helm. this did not prevent her tripping at least 2 speed cameras and cutting up various irate people on roundabouts in the rush to get to the hospital. as she did not have her handsfree ear thingy my boy and his friend were instructed to firstly telephone himself to say he had to get to a&e pronto and then to telephone a&e and to explain that a large vehicle would shortly arrive and disgorge a doubled-up mrs captain, 3 autistic children and herself.

at a&e the young folk were dispatched to find a wheelchair. the wild girl is nothing if not single-minded. she rushed straight into the bit where people get stitched up without a word to the receptionist, grabbed the nearest wheelchair (which might well have belonged to someone who had popped into the loo) and came back with it at a run. mrs captain on reflection decided that the bending to get into the wheelchair might be even more painful so she limped in on foot. the 3 young folks were given strict instructions by herself to stay close and keep quiet.

once they were booked in they settled down to wait for himself to arrive. the young folks eyed the other customers. herself eyed the young folks, nervously awaiting a loud and inappropriate comment about someone's injuries. these beefburger people tend to behave rather inappropriately when under stress. soon himself arrived and removed the young folk. luckily mrs prof was staying so she could keep them quiet while he watched the rest of the rather important football match that he was in the middle of.

then the triage nurse called mrs captain. this was so she could see whether she should be kept waiting all night or whether she might only have to wait a couple of hours. this seems to depend on how much you are bleeding on the floor, and whether you look as though you might collapse.

mrs captain came back with a large jug in a plastic bag. "i have to do a sample" she whispered. "i will have to carry this jug full of wee all the way round in front of all these people back to the nurse!" "don't worry" said herself "you can borrow my handbag to carry the jug in. just don't spill loads of wee in it". herself is rather loud, even at low volume. several people turned to look in amazement at this plan.

mrs captain limped off to the very public toilet. some time later she emerged, gingerly carrying the bag. she shuffled round to the nurse. "what can i do for you?" said the nurse. "i've brought my sample" said mrs captain. the nurse looked puzzled. mrs captain retrieved the jug from the depths of herself's handbag. the nurse was obviously lost for words at such ingenuity.

they settled down to wait some more. eventually mrs captain was taken to see the doctor. she was asked to put on a rather small gown (mrs captain is a lady of rubenesque proportions). soon a doctor arrived. after examining mrs captain he asked an unnatural amount of questions about bowel movements and other things best kept quiet about. then he said "is there any chance you might be pregnant?"

"f**k!!!" said mrs captain in her best and loudest new zealand twang. mrs captain can be very feirce. the curtains round the cubicle shook. the doctor took a step backwards and went a bit pale. even herself was rather taken aback and she is used to mrs captain's ways. (it turned out later that mrs captain had thought the doctor had said that she actually was pregnant). she explained to the doctor that the captain had taken steps to prevent such an occurrence. thus reassured the doctor sent mrs captain for x-rays. eventually the doctor came back. "i think you have either passed a kidney stone or you have gallstones" he said "there are no kidney stones on your x-rays so if you did have one it has gone".

mrs captain was allowed to go home. herself insisted on driving just in case mrs captain tried any more monkey-business behind the wheel. my readers will be pleased to know that today mrs captain is much better, although very sore.

i hear you asking, why the horse? well, dear readers, to pass the time herself and mrs captain did a brief survey of the reason for people being in the a&e department. nearly everyone had riding clothes on. there was a young lad who had been bitten in the head by a horse, another woman who had been bitten in the hand, a woman who had rather foolishly got between two stallions fighting, a young girl who had been kicked in the leg by a horse and a woman who had fallen off a horse and broken various bones.

interestingly mrs captain and herself had planned to call in at a horse clothing shop to buy jodphurs for the wild girl and my boy's friend. so it seems even buying horse clothing can be dangerous. the lesson there is to never go near anything with 4 legs that is bigger than a lurcher...