“Beware Of The Person Who Can’t Be Bothered By Details”
I don't suppose that it will come as news to anyone that dropping a dumb-waiter lift full of bottles of wine and booze on your arm smarts a little bit. But if you're anything like me then what hurts the most about such physical injuries is not the pain - I'm a battle hardened rugby player - but the intense feeling of 'Oh my god how can I have been so stupid!'
Anyway, on this occasion I shall choose to brush over my stupidity. I shall also make light of my heroic decision to stay at work (I don't care what anyone says, suffering is for heroes!) and we'll skip straight to the part where I feel a funny lump on my arm whilst enjoying a few quiet after-work drinks.
The decision is then made that an x-ray is needed and a text message is rattled off to my good friend Staff Nurse Proctor (having friends in the medical profession is almost as helpful as having friends who are lawyers). She replies, at 4 in the morning…
(I still don't get why people sleep with their phones on when their text message alert is enough to wake them up?! But that's a whole different rant. I sleep with my phone on - but then it would take the rampaging horses of the apocolypse to wake me up in the middle of my beauty sleep)
And so I take my sandwiches and a book and head off to King's College Hospital A&E department at silly o'clock in the morning. I register my details… wait a while… see a chap for an initial assessment… wait a bit longer… and am called in by a heavily pregnant nurse to go for an x-ray.
First I sit down with her for another assessment in a curtained area with a computer. We go through how it happened, what I can feel, what bits I can move and so on. She explains that my radius appears fine because I can rotate my wrist but that as my wrist is clicking a lot I'm going to have an x-ray to see if my ulna is broken (all these years after GCSE PE I still remember which bone is which).
At this point I relax because my wrists just do click a lot and so if that's the only problem she can find I'm probably fine - besides, I only came for an x-ray to make sure it was alright so I'm getting what I wanted.
At this point I notice the form that she has in front of her, a list of all the details I had given when I arrived; name, address, next of kin etc etc. And then I notice the problem, at the bottom the form reads:
'R ARM INJURY'
Quite amused I ask the nurse if it's my form. She confirms. Then I have to point out the problem… it's my left arm that's injured, not my right. I know the front desk of A&E isn't a glamorous position but you'd think they could employ a health professional (assuming he was one) who knew his left from his right! I can't say I was greatly assured by the nurse's comments:
"They've probably been there all night… Oh, it's Peter, that explains it"
What?!! Either he's known for being a moron or he's known for cocking up regularly. Whichever one it is are they really happy with him being the first port of call for London's walking wounded?! I knew standards were bad but that bad?
Maybe the cuts in NHS spending have meant that the 'Left & Right' module was cut from the training schedule. Perhaps he'd just forgotten to wear his special NHS issue latex gloves that have L and R stamped on the back?
The radiographer asked me before the x-ray though, so I suppose so long as the national education system is good enough for all the patients to know their left from their right, I suppose the health service is OK.
Anyway, on this occasion I shall choose to brush over my stupidity. I shall also make light of my heroic decision to stay at work (I don't care what anyone says, suffering is for heroes!) and we'll skip straight to the part where I feel a funny lump on my arm whilst enjoying a few quiet after-work drinks.
The decision is then made that an x-ray is needed and a text message is rattled off to my good friend Staff Nurse Proctor (having friends in the medical profession is almost as helpful as having friends who are lawyers). She replies, at 4 in the morning…
(I still don't get why people sleep with their phones on when their text message alert is enough to wake them up?! But that's a whole different rant. I sleep with my phone on - but then it would take the rampaging horses of the apocolypse to wake me up in the middle of my beauty sleep)
And so I take my sandwiches and a book and head off to King's College Hospital A&E department at silly o'clock in the morning. I register my details… wait a while… see a chap for an initial assessment… wait a bit longer… and am called in by a heavily pregnant nurse to go for an x-ray.
First I sit down with her for another assessment in a curtained area with a computer. We go through how it happened, what I can feel, what bits I can move and so on. She explains that my radius appears fine because I can rotate my wrist but that as my wrist is clicking a lot I'm going to have an x-ray to see if my ulna is broken (all these years after GCSE PE I still remember which bone is which).
At this point I relax because my wrists just do click a lot and so if that's the only problem she can find I'm probably fine - besides, I only came for an x-ray to make sure it was alright so I'm getting what I wanted.
At this point I notice the form that she has in front of her, a list of all the details I had given when I arrived; name, address, next of kin etc etc. And then I notice the problem, at the bottom the form reads:
'R ARM INJURY'
Quite amused I ask the nurse if it's my form. She confirms. Then I have to point out the problem… it's my left arm that's injured, not my right. I know the front desk of A&E isn't a glamorous position but you'd think they could employ a health professional (assuming he was one) who knew his left from his right! I can't say I was greatly assured by the nurse's comments:
"They've probably been there all night… Oh, it's Peter, that explains it"
What?!! Either he's known for being a moron or he's known for cocking up regularly. Whichever one it is are they really happy with him being the first port of call for London's walking wounded?! I knew standards were bad but that bad?
Maybe the cuts in NHS spending have meant that the 'Left & Right' module was cut from the training schedule. Perhaps he'd just forgotten to wear his special NHS issue latex gloves that have L and R stamped on the back?
The radiographer asked me before the x-ray though, so I suppose so long as the national education system is good enough for all the patients to know their left from their right, I suppose the health service is OK.