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"Multi talented." Newcastle Journal “Awesome”– Frog & Bucket "Fantastic host... Kept the night flowing" - Laughing Cows

  • One Geordie, the Big Break & a Pantomime - Part 1

    Christmas is over. A long, distant memory.

    A new year had rung in and I was excited to be going to see a pantomime. A pantomime with a group of friends, no kids, just us adults, just us girls on a Saturday night. Something different. It was a welcome change – "Oh no it wasn't!" - "Oh yes it was!"

    Little did I know how the evening would go.

    I was walking down the street to meet the girls before heading to the theatre, when I slipped on the wet pavement. Slipped, a short, silly slip, resulting in me doing the side splits, looking like something from Magic Mike XXL. Well, maybe not. More like something from Trainwreck'

    It's not even an exciting story.

    No drunken antics.

    No rolling down anything.

    No screaming.

    No crying.

    Not even a Prince Charming coming to my rescue.

    The most exciting thing was that I split my jeans at the crotch. Exciting, you ask? Yes, ripped jeans have made a comeback.

    The pain, immediately on rising, was excruciating. How would I make it to the bar to meet the girls? Through sheer willpower, that's how. As I hobbled down the street, I could see the theatre where the pantomime was on. I could see fellow theatregoers making their way up the grand staircase running through the auditorium. I knew then, as I breathed through the pain, that the pantomime was not to be – "Oh yes it was!" - "Oh no, it wasn't!"...

    So, a taxi was called by the girls to take me A&E.

    “We'll come with you, to the hospital” they said.

    “No. No,” I said, “there's no point us all going to sit there and everyone missing the pantomime.”

    Selfless to a fault.

    A&E loomed, with the entrance not appearing especially busy. Thank god there hadn't been a footy match on in town. How deceiving an appearance can be!

    Busy with dubious looking people where shgellsuits, flip flops and pyjamas were the fashion de jouer. One man was dressed in a vest. Perhaps he'd thought he was Bruce Willis whilst watching Die Hard, the perfect Christmas movie...

    On the plus side, in my split-at-the-crutch jeans, for the first time in my life, I fitted in, fashion wise...

    I waited in line to speak to the Triage nurse.

    A receptionist caught my eye and looked at me sympathetically - perhaps because I was wearing shoes – beckoning me towards her at the desk. I hobbled toward her.

    “Can I help?” she asked.

    “I've had an accident,” I said.

    “Oh right," she said, surprised. I mean, why else would I be at the Accident & Emergency Department. Certainly not for the social life. "You'll have to wait inline to speak to the triage nurse,” she told me.

    Wait in the line you called me out of? Bloody hell.

    Now some lass holding a milk pan as a spitoon had taken my place as I hobbled back to the quque.

    Feeling faint, I waited my turn. Finally, after what felt like an four hours (in reality about ten minutes), I was next. The triage nurse booked me in and advised it would take three to four hours for me to be seen. Oh joy.Three to four hours and I was already around an 8/10 on the pain front. I mentioned that I gone dizzy and begun to faint on slipping.

    “Oh that makes a difference. Thanks for telling me,” said Triage.

    “Will I be seen quicker?” I asked in hope.


    More joy! Not to mention pain, which I promptly did.

    “I'll get you some painkillers,” Triage told me and emptied a couple of capulets into a medicine cup, but no water. Paracetamol sucking is never a pleasant task - "Oh yes it is!" "Oh no, it isn't!" (Joke running thin....??!)

    I limped toward the main doors, past the Bruce Willis-wannabe and a pair of overweight women wearing hot pants and flip flops (in January, remember) and went through the automatic door, which fortunately worked.

    I was out of the bellowing heat that eminated in the waiting area into the refreshingly cold, wintry night air. I got my phone out and I dialled a number. I dialled my Mummy.

    “Hello,” she said breezily.

    Hi.(beat) I've had an accident - “ I said.

    “What? What? Oh my god! Are you okay??!”

    Her hysteria prompted a response in me. I giggled, embarrased, and was unable to speak, resulting in more Mummy hysteria, as she thought I was sobbing:

    “Oh no. You're crying! What's happened? What's happened?!!”

    I garnered my breath and stopped laughing as I explained what had happened.

    “So did you see the pantomime?” Mum asked.

    “Erm – no.”

    Mum asserted that she'd come up to the A&E, which wasn't necessary. Though I had been concerned about how I would shuffle up the steps to my front door and then up to my first floor flat despite not having been diagnosed with anything. So Mum's arrival would be a welcome relief.

    “I'll call you when I'm sent for an x-ray for you to then come along,” I told her before hanging up.

    I hoped that would be in the next hour or two.

    I didn't want to be in here all night.

    Especially as I'd wanted to get curry & chips from the Chinese on the way home after the panto as well...



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