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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 4

    “What happened to you? Full of drink were you?” asked the taxi driver who came to A&E to pick us up and take us back to my home that night.

    “I slipped on the wet pavement,” I began, my story perfected. “On my way to the theatre. To see the pantomime. I hadn't been drinking. Hadn't had a drink. Just slipped, didn't even fall.”

    The taxi driver began regaling a tale as soon as I stopped speaking. A tale he had obviously told more than once: “I had a man who I often picked up privately when he came here for business. He was always complaining of a bad neck. I sez to him, 'it's your pillows. The shit ones in the hotel. That's what your problem is' So next time I picked him up he told me that he'd brought his own pillow with him and his neck was perfect. I said 'I told ye so. I told ye' and he says 'You were right'”

    Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise, when you weren't driving a taxi you were a practicing orthopedist.

    I suppose, I thought, it was better than him being a usual taxi driver and making racist remarks.

    “The problem with the NHS,” he began, “are that there are too many foreign nurses. Too many foreigners...”

    I spoke too soon... the ignorant twat.

    It's only when you break a leg or an ankle that you realise how immobilised you become. How much, in small things, you rely on your freedom of movement. Even making a cup of tea becomes the equivalent of climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.

    Getting washed felt like a surgical procedure, laying out all of the necessary tools to perform ablutions. Thanks to a towel placed on the foor, no drips were present for fear of another slip...

    I got around the hot cup of tea problem, rather inventively, especially after a friend suggested using a thermos flask, which was a stroke of genius! Said friend also suggested I contact the local authority for them to provide a wheelchair, which wouldn't have helped in an upstairs flat.

    As well suggesting the council for a commode, which, out of principle, I wouldn't have used. Come hell or high water, I was going to go to the toilet!

    (The tips were appreciated however...)

    So, hot cup of tea and inventiveness was made easy as I've two thermos flasks. The large one was filled with boiling water; the small one with milk. Both were carried through in my satchel, which some have scoffed at when I've taken it out and about, but up theirs as it was my trusted friend, companion, a life saver.

    A mug was also carried through, along with tea bags and hey presto – a fresh cup of tea was mine.

    Screw you, crutches!

    Making food wasn't the problem part of eating. No, but transporting the food from the kitchen to the licing room certainly was. The meal was put into tuppaware, sealed and then carried through in my trusty satchel until I was settled . Eating out of tupparware though just isn't right. Felt like was on I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here...


    Exhaustion was a curse upon me. Not only from the broken bone, but the painkillers. Codeine, whilst killing any pain, meant slept day away. So when people asked was I bored just sitting around, I truly wasn't. Thanks to the codeine, I wasn't waking and getting up until lunchtime. By time a short shower was had, dressed, tea and breakfast (which I had a cheek to call it...) it was nearing teatime.

    Then, being exhausted from all of the former, another nap was needed. Just as well as early evening TV is shit.

    Thank god for Miss Marple repeats...

    My moonboot was comfortable. Far more than the temporary plaster cast that had been put on me for the first night. So I felt blessed – apart from the breaking of the ankle in the first place, obviously...

    I was able to remove the moonboot as and when, which was a huge, huge plus for sleeping and being in bed. I was able to climb into bath to shower, which was a real boon and made me feel like I'd achieved something. Even though it was just being clean.

    I was able to wash my hair after a few days.

    I was even able to condition my hair, as I'm not a total animal.

    In the moonboot, I could also pretend I was Michael Jackson in the 'BAD' video...



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