Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Epic Journey

or, Popping To The Shop For Some Milk.

It's my own fault really. I decided I was going to be so big and clever and go to the shop for some milk. Ordinarily when feeling like this I'd have asked mum to pick me up some when she next went, but since mum (and everyone else) is ill then in my eternal wisdom I figured I would take the chance.

The result was me spending half an hour slumped on the stairs of my flat block, with several bruises and a wet arse.

I managed to get TO the shop. Then I had a little rest perched on a kickstool, and then I got my milk and left.

Halfway back (and this is a journey of maybe 50 yards) my legs went out from under me. I caught myself with the nearest wall and then sat on a step for a minute. That's where the wet arse came from.

Into the flat block, across to the stairway, and started climbing on all fours. Perhaps I wasn't concentrating as much as I should have been because I got most of the way up and then my legs went again and a wonderful tangle of me, carrier-bag, and walking stick went bouncing down the stairs, nearly to the bottom. I now have bruises all down my right-hand side.

After getting my breath back, I started to rather awkwardly climb again, but three steps later I nearly threw up with the combination of dizziness and headache and two steps on from that I actually lost consciousness for a moment or two. That was the point at which I decided that maybe I should call for a bit of help after all.

And THAT was the point at which I discovered my mobile phone has no reception in the stairway of this block of flats.

I think if I'd screamed and shouted "help! help!" then someone from one of the flats might have come to see what the problem was, but I'd really rather save that for when it's needed, pools of blood and broken bones and so on.

So I sat there.

And I sat there.

And I still didn't feel any better, so I sat there.

A quick look at my receipt showed I'd left the shop at 11 o'clock. It was now half past. I decided to climb again, resting on each step for a minute instead of attempting a continuous climb. I got to the top and lay there in the hallway for a bit before crawling to the door, unlocking it, and crawling directly into bed.

I've had sleep and painkillers and dry clothes and a chat with Steve now, but it really really pisses me off when stuff like this happens, and it's happening far too regularly, and there's sod-all I can do about it. Gaaa.


The Goldfish said...

This can be so demoralising. Hope you are soon recovered. :-)

Mary said...

demoralising is EXACTLY the word I was looking for, thankyou.

Feeling a bit better this morning, and Pip might come by later.

Anonymous said...

That's very saddening. It sounds very sore as well.

I had to pick my dad up the other day in much the same way. It's got to that stage, sadly

The new chair is looking good on Flickr. Nice colour.
I have a spare set of 5-piece, 12v Dixie (Dukes of Hazzard) horns if you feel the need.

However i'm was merely dropping in to wish you a happy new year, as I make my '07 internet anniversary tour.
10 years of Windows online-iness.
(plus a few non-windows before. Waaaay before...)

S. x

Mary said...

Stu! Fancy seeing you here! I might've known you'd turn up when the conversation turned to ladies' arses.

I'll live without powered horns, but thanks for the offer. I'm missing my scooter right now - not only is it at Steve's place, but last time I was at his the weather was too poo to take it out. Next time I am there I think I shall simply sit in the garage and parp in a forlorn manner.

Happy New Year :)