#8 Medical History

A couple of months ago, my child was on a small plastic stool and given that she, at that time, had less control of her limbs,  proceeded to fall to the floor head first. The result was a red mark, a telling off from my other half and a few hours of cuddles to make up for the neglect. Luckily she was slightly injured again today but she was under Sarah's supervision so it balances out in my favour, maybe not the child's.

It reminded me of the times that I had been hurt, injured or ill and of those which ones have stuck with me and which ones have vanished from my already poor memory. So in order to not lose any more recollections, why not throw them into the interweb (or the WW dot as my nan calls it) so that I may always look back on them. Some are minor, some life threatening, some humorous, all true.

1. The Rocking Horse

The first of a double bill with my Aunty as the source of my pain. Small child placed on a Rocking Horse equals happy memories right?

Well imagine my aunty pushed so hard that my three year old body was flung into the horses wooden mane. It has been made apparent that the apparatus may have been faulty or altered by bigger boys but this has not been proven. 

Broken nose.

2. The Chip Shop

My aunty once more had kidnapped me and took me to the local chippy. Back in those days, the owners of your local Chinese would give the children one chip to tide them over till the main event. Well they did to me anyway. I hope it wasn't Asian code for "come back later tonight, more chips, our little secret".

Anyway my aunty placed me on the counter whilst we waited for our order. A couple of minutes passed and I began to cry and whimpered "HAW" "HAW". My aunty didn't know what was wrong with me. Again, back in the day with looser health and safety regulations, the counters of most chip shops would be almost as hot as the fryer itself for some reason. And my baby bottom was plonked right on top of it. I was trying to say "HAWT" "HAWT".

Burnt boils on arse cheeks.

3. The Pool

When I was approximately 6 years old, we went on a beach holiday. I was in the shallow end of the hotel pool when a group of bigger boys taunted me into the deep end. I can't remember the detail of their taints but it was probably along the line of  "hey poo poo head and stupid face". Why I wanted to go near kids who were attacking the smell of my face i'll never know. I waded in the deep end and sunk to the bottom for what seemed like an eternity.

My mum was on the sun lounger, looked up and couldn't locate me so asked my step dad to investigate. He looked down into the pool to see a distressed and airless Adam. He promptly dove in and saved me from death. My treat for not dying was a trip to the local bar where they used to screen pirate copies of the latest cinema releases. I enjoyed Home Alone immensely that evening.

Broken Pride

4. The Asthma Attacks

My asthma is easily controlled. It just so happened that I'm lousy at controlling it. Sometimes I would go days and weeks without a puff of my fresh clean inhaler air thinking I was cured and I would not keep it on my person. However a strong strenuous exercise, mildly amusing stand up comic or especially simply knowing I can't have it can send me into an episode. I've had a couple of hospital visits but the most bizarre was when when I had an attack at home. I was 17 and I was babysitting my sister when an attack began, I had no inhaler and couldn't leave the house due to my parental responsibilities. I made my sister ring for an ambulance and the doorbell rang fairly quickly. However when the door opened, a bright light blinded me. It was followed by a cameraman and a boom operator. The boom operator said "can we film this?" My wheezing lungs failed to allow me to respond but inside I was saying "Film what? My death?". I nodded my consent and as if my life depended on the answer, medical personnel followed through to door. God know what would have happened if I'd said no. They filmed my immediate treatment and I recovered within minutes and they even gave me a ride to my doctors to get an emergency prescription. From then on I was a lot more careful of my appearance during life or death situations. The crew were filming a fly on wall doc 'Trauma' for BBC1. Apparently I was not deemed sick enough as I never made it on air.

15 minutes of shame

I hope you found my tales of woe satisfactory and remember....if you ever ring an ambulance, brush your hair.

Adam Yates