Exciting news: my lovely friend Amy is getting married! She and I have been friends for 15 years now (count them!) – we met at a pre-term induction rounders match at Becky High in July 1997. We were 11.
I met her fiance pretty soon after they started dating. Here is a very blurry photo of the two of them on the Roman Romp (Bath Uni RAG event) in February 2006:
|Water is Best from the opening
of Pindar’s Odes
It was also p***ing it down, being June in England, so I waited in the doorway of an empty shop. Got a text saying Nic and Fi had met Amy before finding me so gone ahead, and I put my phone down and stepped out to go and meet them. I’m not sure how I got from there to lying sprawled across the wet stones of the square with no umbrella or handbag and really kind people asking me questions, collecting my belongings and calling an ambulance. I think in total 5 complete strangers stopped to help in one way or another, and I’m sure others offered. I wish I had found out who they were to say thank you.
The lady at my foot was another visitor to the city (and, mercifully, a really good first-aider!), she was on a treasure hunt with her skittles team. I hope she got bonus philanthropy points!
I remember worrying that Amy’s super-organinsed older sister and Maid of Honour was going to have her perfectly laid plans ruined, so I did phone Amy to tell her to go on without me, but I don’t really remember what I said. Evidently there was some confusion about what was going on so she sent Peter’s brother to check on me (lovely guy, stayed with me for ages, but I’m pretty sure I was so confused I’d have a hard time recognising him again), and then Nic and Fi came over. St. John Ambulance volunteers are drawn to accidents! I was so thankful they were there, though.
The ambulance came amazingly quickly, and both the paramedics were completely lovely. (They did cut one of my lovely M&S patent mary janes off, but it was medically necessary…) Apparently I’m pretty funny on a combination of 10mg morphine, ‘laughing gas’ and shock. I was distracted by Nic and Fi’s geeky amazement at the features of a NHS ambulance. Apparently SJA don’t have hydraulic lifts for getting stretchers into the back. And Fi got to ride in the front, which is pretty cool. I think if I’d been fully conscious it would have been quite exciting! It was a bit like Casualty, when you see the patient’s POV and it’s all ceiling and funny-angle faces.
After a few uncomfortable x-rays (they involved quite a lot of posing my sore foot – vogue!) and a bit of poking and prodding, it turned out I had 2 injuries on my left leg: I dislocated my ankle and had an unstable fibula fracture.
Fun fact, fact fans: The fibula was named using the Latin word fibula, meaning brooch or pin, because of how it looks related to the tibia.
They were also amazing in A&E. More or less exactly at the moment the shock and morphine wore off (you could tell because I started screaming), they took me into resusc, knocked me out for an hour, reset my ankle and put it in temporary plaster. Then, when I was awake, a surgical registrar came to talk about how they could make my fibula more stable (put a pin in it), and to mark my leg in case the surgical team failed to notice the bruising and cast, and somehow cut open the wrong leg…
|A doctor drew this, for the benefit of another doctor.
I’m on the orthopaedics ward now to wait for surgery (in the room with all the old ladies who need hip replacements, but they’re very nice). Nic and Fi have gone to join the hen party in the pub after missing the first five hours to hang out with me and talk to my parents. Super-awesome of them, and I hope it reassured Amy. I’m going to get some sleep now. Epic tiredness and nothing else to do…