Today was a write off. Well, actually my car was a write off. At about 10.20am. Which was the moment in time when, as I sat in my car waiting at a red light, a DAF lorry belonging to Kwik Fit decided to plough into the back of my vehicle. Ironically, the side of the lorry contained an advert that asked: "Does your car need an MOT?" Sadly, it needs slightly more than that.
Having refused a journey in an ambulance to casualty just after the crash, I was persuaded to make the trip later in the day. I spent four hours mulling around accident and emergency drinking really horrible vending machine coffee. Was kept amused for a short time by a builder who sat opposite, who had fired a six inch nail from a Hilti gun through his thumb. It looked like the kind of visual gag you'd buy from a joke shop. After he'd been sat there for five minutes a 12-year-old in a tracksuit wandered over and asked the highly intelligent question, "does that hurt?". I got the all-clear from a nurse after 40 minutes but then had to wait for the same from a doctor. I embarrassed myself when I misheard a name that was announced. For a few brief seconds I was, in the eyes of the waiting room's varied clientele, who watched me jump to my feet and dash towards the nurse, Jane Winters.
Showing posts with label NHS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NHS. Show all posts
