How I ended up in Hopital

While I’m still searching for the Constructive Apathy piece to kick-off this blogspot with, little did I think this following piece was going to be the one that actually started it:

So I was in town today (Friday 19th), collecting the Proofs of the new book [3rd edition of Teach Yourself Screenwriting] from my publisher - Hodder & Stoughton - so that I may proof-read and correct them next week, delivering them back to Hodders next Friday (26th).

Proofs collected, a few more bits of shopping done - and just as I was heading for the station home - I decided to pop into a shopping mall called The Plaza in Oxford Street. It is notorious for it’s shiny and slippery polished marble floors.

6.35pm: Anyway, I took a tumble, my left leg shot out in front of me at 180 degrees and I fell on it/on my arse (ass) - heavily.

No bones broken but, oh boy, did I feel those tendons snap: behind the knee and especially at the top of the thigh. Well, I sat down and almost passed out a couple of times with the shock. Paramedics came along (about 7 pm) and took me to the local hospital at 7.20pm.

In the ambulance one of the paramedics told me he worked on the construction of The Plaza about 17 years ago and even then he told them he thought the floor tiles were dangerously treacherous.

A few hours in A&E (ER) of University College Hospital (ironically, situated opposite my publisher's building). They told me I was lucky it was a slow period - the busiest periods for them being August and February (student accidents/Freshers' week).

Basically all they could do for me was dose me up on painkillers and tell me to rest and pack it with bags of ice cubes (tendons supposedly heal themselves, the doctor said) and they said - wait for this "if you can afford it, try to see an physiotherapist" [don't the NHS have any physiotherapists themselves?]. They told me I’d be looking at rest for the next 6-ish weeks.

10.30pm As I made my way to the local tube station nearest to the hospital slowly, slowly half-limping, I got to the station. Inside the station, and on the way to the platform, the left leg gave out again - twice. Just shot out in front of me at 180 degrees and I went down on my ass again, twice. (No tendons behind the knee, see). Bugger me, it hurt.

I finally made it to the platform, to the line home, and managed to get a seat straight away (almost passing out twice on the journey home with the shock of it all).

At least when I got out at the other end I managed to get a cab to my flat (apartment).
11.30.pm. Now I’m back home (where I at least have a pair of crutches stored under the stairs).

[Fact: did you know it costs the NHS more to sterilise a returned pair of crutches than it does to issue a brand new pair?].

Luckily I was wearing a slightly baggy suit that moulded itself to my bizarre body shapes when I went down, and there are no tears or splits (that’s a relief - it’s a particularly nice Prince of Wales lightweight check with sky blue overlaid tramlines!).

So the original plan was for me to go back into town next Friday, 26th (to return the corrected proofs to Hodder).

I am intending to do that Friday visit (even if I do it on crutches). If I can’t make that on Friday - I shall decide next Thursday - I’ll put the proofs in the post, Registered Post].

My lifestyle philosophy at present is: Let’s just take things one day at a time.

What’s that line of John Lennon’s?: Real life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans?