The Next Day

Funny how people hurt themselves on a Saturday night but it doesn't seem to hurt them till the following Sunday morning.

 I had two trips to the hospital in a row this Sunday both had injury’s to the same leg, the first had been at a party where they played an old punk track and of course, the guy thought he would relive his youth and see if he could still pogo like way back in his teenage days.

The next said he had fallen over a kerb, bet he couldn't find it the next day though.

 Reminds me of a few months back when I picked up a guy still very much the worse for wear who had fallen the night before. When he woke up, he saw something white on his elbow so he tried to brush it off; unfortunately, it turned out to be his bone sticking out! He was still laughing about it but that will have stopped when the alcohol wore off and the stitches went in.

 On the way up to casualty, I said to him, you know when you get treated that the nurse will say to you that this wont hurt a bit. “Yes” he said expectantly “well she will be lying” I replied!

Dung Beetle

A nice easy job picking up from the local hospital and ten miles up the road to Ulverston, or so I thought!

My fare was waiting in the foyer shoehorned into what must have been a specially strengthened jumbo size wheeled chair. I would guess that she would have been maybe between 28st (390lb) and 30st (402lbs) and had her right arm in plaster and stuck out at an extreme right angle.

She was with her mother who at maybe 4ft 10in and 6st (84lbs) was the complete opposite to her in every way.

I can’t wheel her declared the mother and looked at me expectantly, so I took a deep breath and started to shove as hard as I could on the back of the wheeled chair. At first, it would not budge and so I closed my eyes and gave it all I had and was rewarded with some movement. I opened my eyes when the victim began shouting at me and found that all I had managed to achieve was turning her on the spot three times. Mother pointed out that one of the wheels still had its brake on so I released that and prepared to set off again.

By this time, the ladies of the WRVS had evacuated the rest of the patients from the foyer and were comforting them with tea and biscuits.

 Off I set with the huge load squealing and shouting directions looking like a dung beetle pushing an elephant turd up an anthill.

When I finally reached the taxi with my Convoi Exceptionnel and I was pondering just how I would load her without any mechanical assistance, she popped up out of the chair like a whale breaching the ocean and shrieked “I can walk you know it’s my bloody arm that’s broken”

With that, she climbed into the front seat of the now lopsided groaning taxi.

I set of staggering back with the chair wondering why she waited for me to push her in the chair when she could walk and why I was daft enough to do it!  

Mother was sat very quiet in the back and daughter sat waiting to be belted up. This was never going to happen even if I could reach round her the belt would never have stretched the vast distance.

Next was the problem of releasing the handbrake which was hidden beneath some unknown part of the daughter’s anatomy, this was achieved with much embarrassed and apologetic fumbling and straining.

“I was ran over by a truck,” the daughter announced when we had set off, now being a sensitive sort of guy I didn’t follow my first instinct and ask her if the truck driver survived, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

Daughter had a loud shrill sort of voice that just didn’t seem to want to stop talking at me. After a mile or two mother quietly tried to interrupt her to tell me directions to the place they were going. This seemed to be a big mistake as daughter shrieked “can’t I bloody talk now you old cow” and this started a full scale argument between them for the next nine miles of pure hell.

Every time daughter shouted at mother, she turned round to face her in the back and in doing so punched me with the heavily plastered arm.

I was mentally exhausted and black and blue by I finally gratefully dropped them both off.

Some days I would rather be a dung beetle!      

New Year New Revenge.

Instead of getting involved in the mayhem of New Years Eve I opted for an early start on New Years Day. This gives good opportunity's for payback for all the Peter Kay taxi driver sketches that groups of giggling drunks always try to recreate in the back of the cab. It really does get a bit boring by the time you get to the hundredth time of "busy tonight mate” and "what time you on till” that Peter Kay has a lot to answer for.
 But the tables are turned early next morning when the fares are a bit worse for wear after a full nights partying. Nothing too harsh you understand, just a bit of gentle mickey taking.
 Such as looking back at the hung-over wreck in the back and saying” we’d better get you back to the crypt before the sun comes up eh!" Or to the fella wearing the brightly coloured frilly shirt, "we'd better get you home before your mother misses her blouse.
 Or the useful advice given to the young lass who looked as if she had been dragged through a hedge backwards “I’d stay away from mirrors for a few days if I was you."
 One confused staggerer who was having trouble remembering where he lived and muttered "over the hill and round the bend" to which I replied "yes I know you are but where do you live,”
 But even I had to refrain from any cruel humour with my first fare of the day. This was from the crowded casualty department of Furness General hospital were he had been all night. It seems that he had a disagreement with a lass who promptly settled the matter by taking her shoe off and embedding the stiletto heel in his head several times, ouch.

999 Taxi

Well it seems that the NHS now want cabbies as well as transporting patients home when they are still in a lot of cases desperately unwell now want us to attend 999 calls as well.
Not a lot of us have any sort of medical training or experience so if this is true then we can expect serious consequences.
I have had many cases of transporting discharged patients home and being more than a little worried about how they would cope when they got home. Some are brought to the taxi in wheelchairs and struggle to stand to get into the taxi. Then we have a struggle to help them out at the other end sometimes into a cold house without any way of preparing hot food for themselves.
We do what we can but at the end of the day we are neither qualified or paid to go beyond just driving the taxi. The other big issue is that if we do enter the patients property then we are not insured and are wide open to accusations of dishonesty or worse.    

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2513856/Dial-999-TAXI-How-stretched-ambulance-services-rely-cabbies-police-firefighters-pick-patients.html#socialLinks

Sheep and Ladders

I was talking to a fare today who told me that he had just got back from the Falkland Islands, he works out there for six long lonely months at a time.
 There are about a hundred sheep to every single man he was telling me, so I asked him if he knew all his by their first names.

Lots of daft people up flimsy looking ladders round here in Barrow in Furness putting up Christmas lights, looking at some of the dodgy ladders I can see the local hospital casualty department doing a roaring good trade.

Nee Naw

I was a bit curious when I spotted this car sporting the words N.W Blood Bikes.

I mean blood and bikes could mean any number of things to a lot of people eh?

So of course I googled it and the website tells me that they" provide a voluntary out of hours transport service to our local hospitals by carrying urgent and emergency blood, blood derivatives, samples, donor breast milk for premature babies, Doctors notes, and theatre equipment, in fact anything that can be carried by motorcycle, between hospitals.

We provide this service through the night, at weekends and Bank Holidays enabling hospital funding to be better spent on patient care."

Mmm I thought that sounds familiar, isn't that exactly what we as a local taxi service do every day of the year 24 hours a day. Of course we charge for our services but that's part of what we do for our living. Why do these seemingly charity minded bikers want to steal the bread from our table?

Is it because they want to help out the poor old cash strapped National Health Service?

Mmm maybe so but aren't they inadvertently helping to downgrade that very service into a charity aided shadow to the private health industry?

I have just heard recently that our area here in Furness has had a reduction in emergency ambulance cover down from five units to two. Oh but don't worry if anything major happens we can rely on the air ambulance helicopter to help. 

Mmm but wait a minute isn't that charity funded as well?  

What next: sponsor's names on staff uniforms and collection boxes in casualty maybe?

We should remember that we all pay towards the NHS and we shouldn't be helping to dismantle it.

But maybe the truth is that these guys may have the best of intentions but being blunt they could be seen as macho weekend warriors playing at being an emergency service rider.

Nee Naw Nee Naww eh!

The Language Barrier

Well not so much the language but the dialect of two Indian doctors I had picked up that wanted to go to the local hospital.. I asked them which entrance and one of them said "ANY".. Fine. Maybe I should ask again so I did and got the same response "ANY". I said "Are you sure you want any entrance?" and he said YES.

I then said I would take them to the main entrance and he said "No... I want any entrance". This had me a little baffled until he said it a bit slower. "I want A and E Entrance".

I felt a right plonker.

Emergency Call

Its not every day that you get an urgent call to get you to the hospital but I felt really sorry for the two young boys I picked up this week when they asked me to get them to the hospital casualty department as quick as I could.

They started telling me their story of how they were a happy family, just the two brothers and their mother when all of a sudden without any warning whatsoever that the mother suffered a stroke. Apparantly she is only 53 years old I was told and the two boys were quite upset not knowing what was going to happen. I got them to the casualty department and wished then the best of luck and hoped that things weren't too bad but I couldn't help but think afterwards how lucky we all are.

Someone once said to me that theres always someone worse off than yourself. We take everything for granted and one day it could happen to anyone of us and from that day on your life and the lives of the people around you are changed forever.

All I can say to you is enjoy life while you can as you never know whats round the corner., I felt really saddened for these two young lads as there life will now change forever, and from such a young age.

They did tell me that whatever happens that they love their mum and will do whatever they can to look after her.

If only more families were as caring for each other like this. There's too many people out there that think of only themselves and only visit family as and when they want something. Life's too short. Give someone close a hug today.. Go on.. do it right now.. Tell them that you love them. Just do it and see the smile on their face.

After all, this is life. We only get one chance at it. Its not a rehearsal, its the real thing ...

So live it........