» Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Hospitals

Mmmmmm nurses
My missus has spent a lot of time in hospitals.

When she was "nowt but a lass" she was unlucky enough to be run over, by a Reliant Robin no less, she suffered a broken shoulder and pelvis and really does have the scars of botched plastic surgery to prove it.

Of course in adult life, and after giving birth to two wonderful children, she developed arthritis in both hips. The worst hip was worn away to nothing so eventually it was replaced, however she still has a great deal of pain making it difficult to walk - she has basket of tablets to counter this pain, and tablets to counter the side effects of the pain killers, and more tablets for the side effects caused by those tablets.

However she does manage to hold down a full time job, whilst she was convalescing she went to college and did an access course, then went on to uni for 3 years doing both placements and normal lectures etc etc.

She's been working for 2 years now, her job ? Well she's a staff nurse on a cardiology unit, they get the guys in who have fallen down with a dodgy ticker. Sometimes we'll talk about work and I'll tell her my tales of daring do with dodgy servers and gormless users.

Then she'll tell me about the 30 minutes cpr she performed on an old lady who was going to die later anyway, she'll tell me about the druggies who have abused themselves so much that their heart is in worse condition that the old ladies, ever tried to find a vein on a herion addicts body thats not collapsed ? She'll tell me about the senile ones who shit themselves, the abusive old dears who dont have a clue where or when it is. She get two breaks a day, usually, if she is lucky she'll have one of them 6 hours late.

The NHS may be flawed, there are certainly not enough staff, but my wife and her colleagues do a damn fine job, she is truly my Florence Nightingale
(Fri 12th Mar 2010, 8:17, More)

» My most treasured possession

Wallet
My Stepdad died of a heartattack one morning a year or so after I'd left home and joined the Air Force, I never got to say goodbye and it still hurts today. Anyway he left me his Rolex, a car and his leather wallet. He always carried his wallet werever he went, it rarely had a great deal of money it it but it was leather and smelled of him. I cherished it more than my own offspring and carried it everywhere I went. Fast forward 20 years.

I've lost it, gone, no idea - not a clue where it is...until the wife finds it......in my jeans, which had been through the wash. The wallet had shrunk in the wash, not a lot but enough to make it difficult to close. For the first time in a long long time I cried, I cried because apart from memories I had destroyed the only link I had to a man who had the guts to take on a wife with three small boys and bring them up as his own. I cried becuase I never said goodbye properly the last time I saw him and most of all I cried becuase my most cherised possesion, my stepdads smell, had gone.

oh fucksocks
(Thu 8th May 2008, 18:17, More)

» Creepy!

I hoped that was the sound of the waves lapping on the side of the boat.
My mum did the bravest thing ever by walking out on my father when I was 3. We moved back to the family home , my mum two brothers and I.
Sadly back then courts would grant access and visitation rights at the drop of a hat. School holidays, Christmas etc were all spent at "his" house, supervised by my aged Grandma and wheelchair bound Grandpa.

Two creepy episodes stand out in my childhood, and it wasn't ghosties or bad dreams. They came later.

1st episode was waking up to the sound of a child crying in the middle of the night, muffled sobbing.

2nd episode was during a sailing holiday, for some reason we ended up with two boats, usually we all slept on the one but for some reason "he" decided that he and I would spend the night alone on the boat. I read a book until it was dark, and then it came, 2nd creepy thing.

"So, what do they tell you about sex these days at school ?"

I was about 11.
I mumbled something about not being really interested and went to sleep, fitfully with one eye open.

Doesn't sound much does it dear reader, a kid crying, a caring paternal question.

I'd imagine his creepiest moment came about four years ago, when the judge sent him down for nine years.

See who's crying himself to sleep now, kiddy fiddler.
(Sun 10th Apr 2011, 13:20, More)

» Secret Santa

.....Secret Santa in a new job .....fucksox
Well there I was, the new bloke, just posted in before Christmas and didn't know anyone ( as you'd expect ) apart from one bloke I'd met briefly a couple of years ago. Anyway Secret Santa was a new concept for me as the only time I give things to people I don't know/like is when I get taxed every month.

surpise of surprises I got the bloke I hardly knew for my secret santa gifting extravaganza. I think the limit was five quid. The only thing I really knew about this bloke was that he was of the ginger persuasion, and he had a wife and some kids.

So ..ginger..funny for a start anyway...so I bought him a packet of "ginger Nut" biscuits. Fcuking genuis.

And cheap.

Anyway Christmas came early at work and Secret Santa was called, prezzies were exchanged, I got novelty socks, wooo hoo.

giger boy opened his ginger nuts biccys, much derision was poured on the tight fecker who'd only spent a pound or so ( damn right )

But apparently his missus thought it was hysterical, turns out he'd had the snip a month before ......and therefore technically had no "ginger nuts" to speak of
(Wed 27th Dec 2006, 12:11, More)

» Public Transport Trauma

The curse of the bullshitting announcer
A long time ago in a far away land ( yorkshire ) there was a young RAF chappy who had been visiting witht he wifey back home, near Hull. Ok it was me. I was living in the Outer Hebrides which are like the Falkland islands but less culture, for some strange reason the wife decided to stay at the outlaws for a while longer leaving me to make my own way back to Jockland.

It was winter time, wet, cold, and I was stoney broke so was relying on my forces rail warrant to get me back to work.
It didn't start to badly, change at Selby, then York then sit on the east coast line staring at
the "landscape" for several hours, in the BR equivelant fo roadworks. Quite some time passed but to be honest as a young Dad with a wife and 2 kids under the age of 3 it was a nice rest. I picked my nose and daydreamed, read a book then daydreamed and picked my nose.

Eventually the train pulled off (fnaar !!) and we made our way to Edinburgh, this was when the "Curse of the bullshitting announcer" struck

"BING BONG we regret to announce that all passengers hoping to join the 18:00 Whiskey galore express to Glasgow have now missed this connection. However all tickets can be used to travel on the next train to Glasgow"

Relief all round, well for me anyway, but wait I have another train to take me to Paisley yet !! What will I do ??

"BING BONG all passengers hoping to travel to Paisley etc etc will be required to report to a member of customer services when alighting at Glasgow in order to receive further transport"


That was alright then, I returned to my epic nosepicking session. At Edinburgh I changed trains and finally alighted at Glasgow.

At about 22:00 on a Sunday night.

There were no customer services types around, apart from a tramp an me there was no one there.

Fucksox

I had no money on me, I did however have a credit card which may or may not work so I thought I'd chance my arm with a cab.

Making my way to the taxi rank I knew it was a long shot, 10 seconds later I knew it was more a case of "NaefuckingchancesonImnaetakkinganeefookeranywareona manckycreditcardfuckoff"

Or "no sorry" in English

I had to get to the Glasgow airport for a flight in the morning. I had ( still have ) two feet, and legs. So I set off walking.

Now the only time I'd been through Glasgow was on a bus or a train, walking along the train tracks seemed a bit silly so I decided to try the but route which I knew vaguely. It ran a long a dual carriageway, not the best idea really.

To make matters worse it was sleeting constantly, but there were hilights on my walk, namely being tailed by a police car through a town which I now know is Govan, and...well thats about it really.

I made the airport a fewe hours later, pissing wet through and cold, the rest of the journey was easy after that, even though some kind souls decided to wake me up from my comfy bed in a lounge somewhere to ask if I was going to Spain


Fucking Spain ???????????
(Thu 29th May 2008, 17:31, More)