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20 Jun 2012
Post 347: Hurry up and wait for Mr Lemmish: Never a Pleasure, always a chore.
I was thinking of calling this: ‘This is still bullshit’ because nothing says exciting Saturday night more than 4 hours in f*cking A&E with suspected gallstones which is precisely what happened!
And who’s this Mr Lemmish character? Well that is a reference that only Gwen and Gary or their sons will get straight away. Seeing as I dedicate this post to them, one of the only things that made us chuckle our way through the delights of 4 hours in A&E was the concept of Mr Lemmish. It seems only right that he should feature highly, as charming a concept as he is!
It is their name for the delightful practice of having a rectal exam when you go and see the doctor. I don’t know what said practitioner is expecting to find up there, perhaps those pesky missing WMDs, the Aswan Dam
or perhaps an Acme Anvil
but never in the history of all my meetings with Mr Lemmish (I have been in hospital quite a lot) have they once gone ‘ah ha, I’ve found the problem’ –I reckon they just do it for a dark-humoured laugh.
What had made this 10 times worse was this little visit to the Kingston A&E had curtailed our trip to see the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at the Hampton Court Festival which can be pretty magical
– Gary has since said ‘we can always do it next year assuming you still want us around – just the most awful thing would have to happen for me to not want them around, I’m more worried about them getting fed up with me to be honest. On Saturday, there were four of us, Gary, Gwen and my old weekend carer the brilliant Bianca, who I care about like family now. When we left here at about 4:45 on Saturday I was starting to notice a pain in my right side behind my ribcage. Thinking it was nothing I just assumed it would back off and of course sitting in a wheelchair is no bloody help, so we did the obligatory wander around the magnificence of Hampton Court
(my goodness, British Royalty has plundered this country and still does – at least the money has built some incredible things and for people who have looked after them, at least the aristocracy know how to look after things, although I’m sure countless counterexamples could be found and it be made to look that the working-class have been swindled.
It is mid-June, it could have been glorious but no, this is England. Anything less than a struggle would be ‘too easy’. This was just one occasion when I thought the ‘Aussies may have a point’, I then came to my senses. Anyway, around 7pm everyone started making the move towards the palace from our delicious but rather cold and windswept Picnic
and the pain was getting unbearable and I was completely reluctant to let everyone down, but eventually I couldn’t take it and Gary and Gwen took me to Kingston A&E, the joys of which I sampled last July when I had Appendicitis, Mr Lemmish had rudely introduced himself back then if memory serves.
It’s hard not to feel like I’m falling apart! First a stroke, now my internal organs! This is no laughing matter!
But as much of this blog is a bit ‘me,me,me’, this post is about Gary and Gwen actually looking after me and smilingly putting up with whatever nonsense I have caused. Every 5 minutes on Saturday in A&E I told them how mortified I was that I had spoiled their evening. The usual response was ‘shut your mouth, ‘this is no problem’ which is pretty amazing, right? Well, I thought so. Those are 4 hours of all of our lives that we’re never getting back but it does support my thesis that hospitals are nothing more than big waiting rooms. I have talked about this before, but waiting for things has got to be one of the worst things in life. I am patient, I will wait, but I won’t be happy about it, I’m not a weirdo. The thing that does wind me up though is being kept waiting for the sake of waiting, which is something that seems to happen in hospitals and at millions of places up and down this country. I agree that people need breaks, as a former smoker I know all about this but people in hospitals appear to have breaks just so they can make people wait. It’s almost like bouncers at nightclubs not letting people in so a queue forms thus making the establishment look more popular. GAH! Whatever happened to trying not to make people unhappy?
Speaking of unhappy – you can’t have failed to notice it’s the European [disappointments] er championships. I have lost count of the number of times on facebook people have said to me after I have disparaged football or the ‘England team’ that people have said ‘why do you even bother to post on a subject you hate so much. If people didn’t comment about things they thought were shit, there’d be nothing on facebook, Christ, on the internet. Sad eh, peoples idle tittle tattle is worth almost $100bn. We live in strange times. Let’s hope Mr Lemmish has gone for a very long holiday to clean himself up. Quite frankly he should be on a register somewhere, as should my good friends, Simon and Steve
– two great lads who took me out for lunch on Sunday, between laughing, I couldn’t help but think them becoming housemates might have created ‘a perfect storm of wrongness where the combined darkness of their humour forms a black hole from which you can’t escape. Brilliant.