We were on our way to Bossleworth House*. A 26 year old female, head pain and feeling faint. Now, where had I heard that name before. Bossleworth House, hmmm . . . oh yes, Bossleworth House! The set of flats that were right beside the A&E department of the Hospital.
No sooner had we arrived and stepped out of our truck than our patient emerged from the set of flats. As patients go who call 999 for an emergency ambulance, this one was well presented, well dressed, well manicured and just putting away some blusher into her handbag as she approached . . . Continue reading
“I’m gonna do it! I will! You ain’t stopping me!”
“I’ve not doubt you will David*. But can we at least just talk about it first hey?”
I took another step toward my patient but he turned and ran off down the road. I watched helpless, as David would occasionally attempt to step into the paths of oncoming cars. Thankfully, his cumbersome actions were so ridiculously obvious to the motorists they simply slowed down and carefully maneuvered around and continued on their way, only a small portion of bemusement added to their night.
My patient quickly disappeared out of view leaving me standing perplexed and alone. Continue reading
Most of the time, stabbings turn out to be ridiculously trivial affairs involving handbags at dawn in some form or another. But none the less, you still try and get to them quick . . . just in case it might be something real for once.
My car screeched* to a halt outside a busy intersection and I was instantly greeted by an unusually dressed Shoreditch trendie looking rather flushed. He gestured, over theatrically I thought, toward a young man propped up against a lamp post clutching at the side of his chest in pain.
“Quick! He’s over there! He says he’s been stabbed!” Continue reading