Читать книгу More Blood, More Sweat and Another Cup of Tea - Tom Reynolds - Страница 22

Wee-Wee

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The plan was perfect—we’d just taken a drunk to hospital and the patient (a 45-year-old man, married, father of two) had decided to urinate in the back of our ambulance. Both my crewmate and I were happy at this as we would have to return to our station to mop out, and on the way my crewmate could grab a chicken takeaway meal.

And I could get a cup of tea.

This apparently flawless plan was spoilt when we stopped for the food and a man came running out of a pub to tell me that a friend had ‘a fuckin’ big gash in his head’ from when he had fallen over.

So I dutifully entered the pub, to find a 50-year-old man with a cut down to the skull running from his hairline to his eyebrow. Most impressive.

Less impressive was his friend telling me that the patient had taken some speed earlier.

I don’t know about you, but I consider myself too old to be taking that stuff, let alone someone old enough to be my father.

Not that I’ve ever taken speed myself. I like my brain cells exactly how they are, thankyouverymuch.

Luckily another ambulance turned up and took the patient off our hands, and so we returned to the station where I completed the job of mopping out the urine that had been washing backwards and forwards on the floor as we drove along.

I just wish I could be a fly on the wall when our original drunken patient tries to explain to his wife exactly why he has pissed his trousers.

More Blood, More Sweat and Another Cup of Tea

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