My god you wouldn't believe the night i've had. I'm sitting here drinking a strange cocktail
, the bits of coffee
in my sugarbag and for some reason, vodka
. My hands are shaking so bad from all the cofee that I have to re-write every second word cos i keep missing the keys. Punctuation
is very hard to do on a strong coffee buzz.
Its nearly nine in the morning and I've just walked in the door from a twelve hour shift
in the hospital
. I work as a care assistant special.. in other words i sit by a bed (usually) watching someone sleep for 12 hours reading a book or three and then go home. Last night was different though.
It all started ok, went in, signed in at half seven, blissfully happy after strolling the 15 minute walk down the road listening to Mr. Bungle
and enjoying the feel of my brand-new trogdor
(TROGDOOOOR!!) t-shirt against my skin. Went in to see the night superviser, swearing under my breath on the way out that i was gonna bury her in a ditch somewhere, if you've ever met a night-matron
, you'll know the feeling!
Went up to my ward and sat down at the end of the bed of my lovely unconscious lady-friend and pulled out my book. Who should walk in the door but Frosty the Snow Matron, who i believed i had left behind for the night. Lo and behold, tonight i'm specialing two lucky customers! In different rooms! WOOHOO!!!! So I kiss my lovely book goodbye (The Dharma Bums
by Jack Kerouac
if you're interested) and proceed to tramp from room to room and back again, pointlessly checking one unconscious patient after the other, making sure they're not having nightmares or anything I suppose.
So it gets to about 2 in the morning, my feet are ripped off the back of my soul-destroying work shoes and my legs feel like i've poured half a gallon of liquid nitrogen
over them, i can't feel a thing. Suddenly a scream hits the side of my head like a full on 5-way pileup. "MURRAAAAAY!! DON! COME 'ERE TILL I TELL YOU A QUESTION!". Jesus I think, i fuckin hope thats not... running next door, i find one of my 90 year old beauties clawing her way up the wall screaming at the top of her lungs for her husband. Ok ok.. relax, she's had a nightmare, it's grand.. "It's all right hon, lie back and.." SMACK, right hook
in the forehead. I don't know if you;ve ever had a puck in the forehead but your brain vibrates for about half an hour.
It just went on from there.. It's all ok
now though, I get to SUMBIT