Tonight I had an evening of knitting and Mad Men planned, but I made the mistake of popping out to Tescos for a pint of milk at 8pm, and ended up going to A&E. I walk out of my flat and found my friend T sat with my friend C getting first aid, after T - like an idiot - decided to put his finger in a hand blender and switch it on ... to "see what would happen", he then promptly fainted and hit his head on a cupboard, getting an inch long cut on his scalp, concussion and one hell of a bruise on his cheek.
Since C said he wanted to go to the pub, it was decided that I should accompany T to A&E, because I was a) sober, and b) "it'll be useful for you to see how they do the stitches!". So off I pop, with no book, no phone, no Knitting and no cash to A&E, I got to enjoy T flirting with the two female paramedics, and then a hour and half's wait - a hell of a game of eye spy. But - eventually (and after sitting through 3 rotations of waiting room's full) we were let in to cubicals, I should say at this point that that wasn't a complaint of NHS waiting times in A&E, T was a pillock and in pain, but he was fine in himself, he had minor concussion, but nothing that a good nights sleep and a few days wont cure.
The triage nurse and the doctor were lovely, the both thought that he was a total pillock, and told him so, but equally they both looked after him very well. His head was pretty easy to fix, a wash through with some saline and then he was glued back together. But his finger proved a little bit more problematic, it bled - an awful lot - it took three goes to get the steri-strips to stick down, but in the end, it worked, and we were sent home with a couple of pamphlets and a lot of laughing.
But what struck me was the comeradery and the real care of the staff - yet another moment when I've felt, completely and utterly reassured in my choice of occupation - which is nice among all the moments of being unsure and worried, to have a moment of being so sure!
