*May contain strong language and material that some people may find offensive!*
Date: Friday 20th December 2019
Location: Dunno cant see for the bloody rain!
Well what a balls up - and I don't even do sports, though have been known to throw things up once in a while especially after a few beers and a vindaloo.
Had a few bits n pieces to do in Rotherham (previous home town, sometime place to park overnight and some incalculably low number on everyones list of must see favourite tourist destinations). But first item on the agenda was to nip round the hospital to see friend/muse/model general lunatic, diminutive warrior and outrageously funny (Christ I've gone on so much I've forgotten who I was talking about) - Rachael! Or Raquel or Scarlett - whichever name you know her by, I think she answers to pretty much anything. I usually use “Oi!” ‘Thingy‘, ‘You’, Cute nose’, ‘Now look here’ or Mush. I save ‘Rachael’ for Sundays!
Well alright I say ‘nip’ round the hospital as though the moho was jacked up outside Rachael's ward, creaming off a bit of gas from the catering depts 500 kg industrial gas cylinders and liberating a bit of electric from the Outpatients Unit (Which seems to be accompanied by a variety of screams every time I put the kettle on; “OMG powers gone off and we’ve only removed half of the leg!“, “what the hell!? turn the anaesthetic back on before he wakes up you clown!“ and “put the brain back you fool we can’t just leave it in the sink!” . It wasn’t quite like that......
......it was more like this ........
I wanted to do something to try and cheer her up. But I’m a bit crap when it comes to presents, never know what to buy, nothing seems suitable, looking around the shops and coming back empty handed. Rachael has always liked my sense of humour. It’s said that laughter is the best medicine and so this is what I tried! What follows is the list of messages I sent to her while she was in hospital .......
* “you mean Rotherham?”
“I know what I mean!”
Arriving in Rotherham I completely avoided the hospital car park. For one thing it’s permanently filled to capacity with cars, in fact if you take into account the cars parked on grass verges, under trees, squeezed into an ‘extra’ space at the end of a row of vehicles, cars piled on the roof of other cars, cars piled on the roof of the cars parked on the roof of other cars and cars parked on the roof of the cars parked the on roof of the cars parked on the roof of other cars you will see what I mean - at least I hope so because I can’t work out what the next line is!
The other thing is that I do not believe that visitors to hospitals should have to pay for parking and they most certainly should not have to drive round and round a car park the size of a small town desperately searching for a space when they have friends, relatives and other loved ones lying sick and injured in a hospital bed or may have urgent appointments of their own.
While my mother was alive (though close to the end) my sister Kate received one of those patronising calls from the hospital to say “your mum has had a little fall“. Now I know the staff mean well when they say things like this but we all know that a) there is no such thing as “a little fall” in someone who is in their mid 80s and b) we all know the phrase is a euphemism for “sorry but your mum was stood near an open window on the 2nd floor when a gust of wind blew her out into the street leaving her with a suspected broken hip ....... oops bloody hell! sorry love..... ah.... and a possible fractured skull.
Needless to say my sister arrives at the hospital, sees the car park is full (as always) and begins frantically searching for somewhere to park. She’s out of her mind with worry, thinking about what state she’s going to find her mum in (who’s already elderly, frail and very poorly). In desperation she parks her car in a spot she feels might be suitable until she can find out more about mums condition. Just as she’s about to enter the hospital a voice comes over the tannoy “you are not authorised to park your vehicle in that area, please return to your vehicle and find an alternative parking space”. At which point my poor sister bursts into tears.
How fucking appalling. The swines responsible for this state of affairs should be dragged out in public and made to hang there heads in shame, preferably on a day when it’s freezing cold, very wet and very windy, (kind of sums up their characters really). What a complete and utter disgraceful way to treat people. You can bet they won’t be struggling to find a parking space.
Talk about giving someone a good kicking when they’re down! And my sister is only one of the hundreds of people who must pass through the hospital everyday. It’s not like there are any concessions either; parking charges fall into the premium pricing bracket and spaces are strictly limited.
See, I’m of the view that the hospital administrators (piss be upon them) use a special formula for working out how many parking spaces are required at a hospital. First of all they decide how many spaces will actually be required so that visitors to the hospital can park comfortably, cheaply and free of stress. They then half this number, then half it again to find the total number of spaces required.
Next comes pricing. Again, the administrators (may they be shat upon from a great height) will research this very carefully. Firstly they have a look round an area to see what sort of prices other organisations are charging for parking. They will then take the highest of these charges, double it then double it again to find the amount they will charge.
You think it stops there!? Not a chance - the hospital administrators (may they be forced to wear shoes filled with stones) will decide that any fool can find a space eventually as well as get round the parking charges by taking out a loan, using their credit card or pinching their children's piggy bank.
So their next job is to grind you down to the point where you completely lose the will to live. Just listen to some of their conversations.,,,
”You the foreman of this car park building project?”
”I am indeed and may I.....”
”Do you see this parking space you have outlined?”
”er..yes”
”Well as you can see there is room to park a car with room to spare!”
”I thought that was the idea”
”It is not. We don’t want visitors coming here, perambulating around the car park in the sunshine, nipping in and out of parking spaces just because they have some bloody indolent relative loafing around in the bloody hospital! They'll be happy enough to squeeze into a smaller space and we can still charge them the same” “So you want me to make them smaller then?”
”Good man. Get on with it”
Look at this!!!
You think it relates to ambulances!? Fuck off! No 24 is the parking bay for some fat cat twat who stands laughing at the likes of us trying to find a parking spot.
Or......
“What in the name of sandpapered arse grapes is that!?” “It’s a list of parking charges and exemptions“ “I can see that! what the fuck is it doing at the entrance to the car park!?” “er....its so that people can see it”
”See it!? See it!? We don't want them to fucking well see it! we want to them to ignore it! That way they'll cop for extra charges and we can make more money”
”You want me to move it?”
”of course! Now go and throw it behind a tree!”
“You mean erect it?”
”I know what I mean”
As it turns out I find somewhere to park a couple of streets down from the hospital. I should have known - its ’Residents and Permit Holders’ only. Bastards! The bloody hospital and immediate community have conspired to make things as insufferable as possible for anyone daring to even think about parking their shitty little car anywhere that might give them some semblance of a chance of spending a final few minutes with someone before they die!” Scum!
I decide to chance it - well who in the world is going to come all the way out here just to slap a parking ticket on someones windscreen!? Especially when there are richer pickings in the two centre.
I finally arrive at conception (or whatever they call that place at the front of a corridor where some hatchet faced old bag squats on an office chair like turd on a radiator. Her (possibly - bit confused what with the seven-o-clock shadow thing going on) job is to make sure no one gets past her to visit anyone. I approach and ask to see Rachael. She looks puzzled, asks me a load of questions I should know the answers to, but don’t because I am in too much of a flap. “How are you spelling her name?” “where does she live?” What’s her date of birth?”. You can see hatchet face doubts what I‘m saying because she starts smiling - finally!! Someone she can have thrown out. Instead she asks “are you sure she‘s at this hospital?”
Realisation kicks in. Bloody hell, Rachael is local - It never occurred to me that they would take her anywhere other than Rotherham. As for the name of the place ‘Northern General Hospital’ all hospitals are called that - aren’t they? 🥺
Can’t be helped - if I’m going to see Rachael I need to get myself to Sheffield, just need to remove the parking ticket from my windscreen first! Swines!! Ive been gone about twenty minutes tops! How the hell have they managed to locate my van and stick a parking ticket on it? How do they know it doesn't belong to someone on the estate or just visiting! I swear in all my years of living in the area I have never once seen a parking attendant outside of the town centre. I make a mental note to send them a letter and head of to the Northern General. Fucking bumsuckers!
Turns out parking for the NGH was simple and pretty soon I’m on my way to see my friend! Though I must have had the look of the lost about me because, after walking some distance with a sense of purpose (in the wrong direction), a lady stops me to ask if I’m lost. I explain that the reason I am wandering about in circles looking like a wino in a brasso factory is because, I am indeed, lost, to which she replies “have you tried Hare Krisna?” I snort loudly with laughter as I carefully position her head first inside an exposed litter bin labelled ‘Contaminated Sharps Only!’ It turns out she was actually going to intensive care and that things weren't looking good for her. What do you say? “Oh well good luck, try not to die”. Fuck.
I was on track for Rachael’s ward but was concerned about a message she had sent to me earlier saying that she had been moved to a new ward and was en route to the theatre. Bloody hell here was I worrying about her and now I find she planned to go out gallivanting!
Keen to find out exactly where she had gone I rushed to the nurses station only to find myself at the back end of a long queue. Bloody typical - soon as there’s anything good on you're expected to wait for hours on end. Finally, after what seemed like hours I arrived at the front. But could I get any sense out of anyone? Not on your life; doctors and nurses were rushing around in a state of (what I hoped was) organised chaos, shouting instructions to each other. No wonder Rachael was scheduled for the theatre. This performance was a right old pantomime and no mistake.
“the patients records are behind you!”
”Oh no theyre not I just checked”
”Oh yes they are, I put them there this morning,
”Oh no theyre not”
“Oh yes they are” “they fell on the floor“
”Oh no they're not“
”Oh yes they are”
etc
In an effort to restore order the kindly ward sister appears. “would anyone like tea?” she asks. “Hurray”
Unfortunately the hospital administrator appears on the scene. “We haven't the money to give out tea to all and sundry”
”Boo!!!
“I‘ll pay for it!” shouts the nurse, “it will help people relax”
“Hurray“
“I’m afraid not sister because we are banning tea and coffee on the wards. Health and safety reasons you know”
”Boo!!!”
“Well my husband has just taken over as administrator so you're out of a job”
”Hurray!!!”
I had to shout to make myself heard above the racket!
Finally I get some sense out of someone. “Sorry to keep you waiting we've located Rachael - she’s on ‘Huntsman’ Ah ha!! Now we’re getting somewhere.
I walk into the ward where Rachael is ready to give her a big hug only to find an empty bed. Unbelievable! I come all this way to see her only to find she's buggered of to the theatre to watch s movie! Filling in the gaps I’d guess at ‘Snow White & the Huntsman!‘
Right!!!!
I stomp off to the theatre like an enraged dwarf. For once the hospital direction indicators make sense and I soon locate the theatre. I know it’s the one where Rachael will be because theres a neon sign that says ‘Operating Theatre’.
Right!!!
Two burley orderlys appear out of nowhere and try to prevent me from going in the theatre. “Unhand me!“ I shout. “You can‘t stop me going in, my friend has been given admission to the theatre and is sat in there right now watching a movie about Snow White & the Huntsman!”
I throw open the door to the theatre and the sight before me fills me with revulsion. Stood around a gurney are several people wearing green overalls plastic surgical gloves, their heads covered by scrubb hats.Their faces almost totally obscured by surgical masks. Overhead is an orb, glowing like an alien mothership, its surface so highly reflective that it is impossible to tell where the reflections end and the lights begin. The light shines directly onto the gurney transforming it from a dull, mildewed grey inanimate piece of machinery on wheels into a miniature self contained amphitheatre.
And in the centre of this amphitheatre - a man; he appears to be sleeping peacefully, deep in slumber. A respirator is fastened to his face allowing him life giving oxygen. His torso is covered by a plastic sheet, save for a large rectangular shape in the centre of his chest; and suspended above this opening - a knife; razor sharp; so sharp in fact that it looks as if it could slice through flesh by appearances alone.
I freeze in terror. My god what has Rachael gotten herself involved in? what sort of theatre is this that requires a man to lie prone in front of a number of masked individuals - clearly trying to protect their identities - one of whom is about to end the life of the man in front of him.
“Oi!!! clear off we’re trying to operate!”
”Maureen be a luv n go and contact security for me. Tell them theres a bloke just burst into the theatre“
A snuff movie !!!
The bastards! And right here in the centre of a major city
I hurl myself at the double doors that lead back out into the corridor. I need to raise the alarm but am prevented from doing so by the two men from earlier - this time in such a way as to prevent my escape.
“Help let me out!!! the staff nurse and administrator were arguing over free teas in front of a Dr and a nurse who were squabbling about a patients record collection. Then my friend Rachael was given a free ticket to go to the theatre to see a film about Snow White going hunting and their are people in there wearing masks to hide their identities who are just about to stab a man to death just so they can film it and sell it on DVD for £4.99 (or 2 for £8) .I also got a parking ticket for overstaying in the car park but they refused to let me off even though I explained that Rachael had been taken to the theatre.
Fortunately, I was in luck because the two men said that if I went along with them I could sit in the garden and eat an ice-cream and afterwards if I was good I could watch a movie and wear my special jacket where the arms tie up at the back!!!
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