Could someone get me a cushion?
In 1998 I was in a pretty bad car accident and, as some would say, I got mashed up pretty good.

After spending a couple of weeks enduring the hospitality of the National Health Service, I was nearly good as new. OK, I had a few stitches, walking was still a bit of a problem and I looked like I’d gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson, but I was getting there. Add to that the fact that I was so pumped full of pain killers that I could have been hit by a bus and not felt it, and you kind of understand how I was feeling.

Two weeks further still, and I’m back at work. I’m still not in great shape, but getting by. Reaching up for wine glasses hurt, and pulling the real ale was a bit of a chore, but the punters are glad to see me back and I’m getting a lot of sympathy from the girls. Double trouble.

One night, I got chatting to a couple of the locals. I knew that they were lawyers, and they hadn’t seen me around for a while. When they found out that I’d been in this accident, they started advising me on what I should do.

Well, I say advising. They pretty well pushed me in to going down the compensation route. Please bear in mind that I was 18, desperate for cash, and the person who crashed in to us really was at fault.

And so began a long round of meetings with lawyers and applications for legal aid. Part of this process was meeting with a doctor. Very nice gent he was, quite old school: tweed jacket, pipe and monocle. The works. We spoke for about 2 hours, and he asked me various questions:

“Tell me about your injuries.”
“How do your injuries affect your ability to work or study?”
“Have you had any further pain?”

And:

“Have you experienced any pain in social situations?”

To this, I answered “well, sometimes when I’m out with my friends, at a club, say, my back can start to really hurt.”

Well over a year passes, and I get my grubby hands on a cheque for three grand. I also get a copy of the doctor’s report, which was made all the better by the immortal line:

“Sometimes experiences a little stiffness at the discotheque.”

Haven’t we all, doctor, haven’t we all...
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Fri 13 Jun 2008, 12:57, 2 replies)

*BIG click*
...and extra points for the following:

*got mashed up
*walking was still a bit of a problem
*I was getting there
*I was so pumped full
*reaching UP
*PULLING the real ale WAS A CHORE
*pushed me into going down
*desperate for gash cash
*a long round
*have you had any


*sniggers with unCUNTrollable belly-wobbles*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 13 Jun 2008, 22:11, closed)