Call 112!

Ah the catchy telephone number for the emergency services in Denmark - and other European countries. At least in Britain, when in need of help while falling to the floor after being stabbed by your wife you can easily remember and type 999 on the telephone.

The reason for calling the emergency stories? I was shot by terrorists/insurgents in Bjerringbro. No really. No re... well just no then.

Rather embarrassingly, I fell off my bike and was off work for two weeks. Oh yeah...

Here's the LOWDOWN (not associated with that BBC 1 television show):

I was cycling along on a wet late Wednesday (22nd of September) afternoon on my way home from work on my super cool, trendy, manly bike (which has now been changed). I was going pretty fast, though not sure how fast, upon approaching a 90 degree right turn. As this was my usual route I usually swing out to the left and cut in for maximum speed (ahh Grand Turismo), however, on this occasion there was oncoming traffic (Danes drive on the right hand side of the road) so I had to take the corner rather sharply. For some reason here they pave the junctions of minor road onto major with cobbles and as it had been raining early, the cobbles were quick slippery thus resulting in both wheels giving up with Mrs Friction and me landing right knee first into some jaggy cobbles and then some rolling and scratching and hurting. :)

I managed to get up and hobble about thinking it wasn't so bad until I looked down at my right trouser leg which was all ripped (this was after the hospital as I didn't have my camera at the scene of the accident, and if I did...yes I would take photos :)). Upon closer inspection I saw this (Note that this was a Crime Scene Investigators on-site visual representation of the wound). A big rip/hole just below the knee cap. I could actually see the muscle. The yellow bits are fat, as I later found out at the hospital.

So I had to flag down a passing van and after the usual "Do you speak English?", he phoned for an ambulance. The nearest hospital was in Viborg (about 30km away) so I had to wait for about 25 minutes before it arrived. Although Denmark has a national public health service the ambulances are operated by a private firm called Falck.

At the hospital, after the usual "Sorry, I don't speak Danish", I was seen to. Though I did have to wait for 10 minutes in the hallway on a bed. They had to check to see if I had damaged anything else by prodding inside the hole (oh yeah) but luckily I hadn't and just got anaesthetised, the wound washed and stitched up.

The A&E room and equipment was fairly dated (around the 70s) but everything looked very clean. The doctors and nurse were friendly and efficient so it wasn't long until I was out. I was to return in 12 days (as I didn't have a local doctor) for a check up and to remove the stitches. Now I understand why the 40% tax! However, it doesn't cover a free ambulance ride home :'( So I had to hobble to the train station.

As my right trouser leg was a right mess I had seriously considered tearing the other leg "just to match" thus avoiding looking like a fanny. :O Instead I just folded the flaps over and tucked it in my sock to cover my leg, thus NOT looking like a fanny ;)

I spent the next two weeks off work confined to the house resorting to watching daytime Danish cable TV (the topic of another post soon to follow = yeah!) Most things were a challenge, like putting on socks, as I couldn't bend my knee (too sore and I was afraid I might burst the stitches). I couldn't get the wound wet as I could get an infection because it was so deep, so even showering was a challenge (had to use a plastic bag and a belt as no string, wooo...thanks mond). On that Monday past I returned to the hospital for an appointment at 10.30am, which I arrived at 10am. I had just sat down to read thinking I could be there for some time, when an nurse called me in and took out the stitches, a doctor examined me and was out of the hospital at 10.25am. Go 40% tax!!

Everything was healing up well but I had to try to keep bending my knee as the muscles had seized up because I hadn't used them in 12 days. Quite sore but I managed to go some walks, one of which I got semi-lost in a big forrest by myself. Was like Mirkwood :D

Was back to work yesterday, which I managed to cycle to but I could not overcome The Hill. I'm glad to be back, mainly because of The Internet (it's been 2 weeks!) but the project I'm doing is really enjoyable.

Right, home time now. Have to move my stuff downstairs as this floor is being refurbished. The rest of the employees on this floor are relocating to another building far away (30 mins walk) but as Andy and I need lab access we have to stay here, so I'm getting a new desk in the lab downstairs. Andy's new desk is somewhere upstairs.

Finally,

I saw you wrapping presents but it wasn't even anyone's birthday

Good day sir,

--
mond

Like the sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of our Lives

(I wrote this a couple of days after the accident but just posting it now)

Being marooned in the house after the accident, day to day life revolves around some basic tasks, some of which have been elevated to challenges.

In between napping, there is not much I can do, except be pulled into the realm of day time television - in reality there are many things I could do instead, but you know, they require, well...uh...I forget...

Who?

I want you to get excited about your life

– - Dr Phil

And how can I not be with The Bold and the Beautiful dubbed in German. Does life not get any better? After deciphering the current goings-on, what has happened already and with the plot for the next month or two figured out, it was time to move on.

After sightseeing some Scando bingo (actually consisting of four tables each with approximately five men - below thirty - and a large number appearing on the screen every twenty seconds) and some Swedish kiddy song and dance action, next stop fun timez…

I stumbled across a soap which within ten seconds I already knew to be of superior viewing quality to TBATB…

“Like the sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of our Lives

In a Hulk Hogan style: “Oh yeah!!!!

I don'’t know if it is because I have been watching it for three days (they show the episode from the day before and two new ones each day) but it does feel as if I have seen these before, some years ago. The year at the end of the credits was 2000, so this may be true.

So let’s bring you up to date with some of the juicy bits of the DOOL.

Thursday (23rd of Sept.) to present (Monday): Four teenagers go on a double date. The two lucky lads are Steve P (Pirate) and Steve G (Gambler) and the gallous gals are Roisin V (eVil) and Roisin P (Popular). (I would like to point out I can't remember their names, thus Steve and Roisin - pronounced Row-sheen). Now Roisin P and Steve P have been friends for as far as they can remember (to be honest, that may not be that far) so when Steve G asks Roisin V out on a date they ask the two others if they want to come, thus not actually confirming if indeed this is a date for Steve P and Roisin P. This becomes a sticky point later on. When taking in some horror movie we have the following seat line up: Steve G, Roisin V, Steve P and Roisin P. Steve G makes a tragic mistake by leaving just before a scary bit to acquire some love-corn, at which point Roisin V in a flit of terror has to cling to Steve P for safety. Roisin P looks on with mixed emotions and eye close-ups. Granted, if this embrace was just for a passing second it could be overlooked, however, it is held until Steve G returns. Roisin V’s excuse being “I don’t normally react like that”. I warned ye, it’s the overly thick and dark eyebrows. eVil! The gecks are only veil over her darkness. With lover boy Steve G reassuring her that she is safe with him, until of course he tries to sell her to finance his tribute to Gamblord, they watch the rest of the movie. They confront the issue outside when the movie is over, with Steve P still convinced that it was just a group outing rather that a double date, much to Roisin Ps disappointment. She runs off claiming to be tired after the rest decide to go to Java or dot com for a coffee. Enter Roisin J (Jesus) who consoles her friend and pinpoints the blame on the “witch”. Later Roisin J is explaining to Roisin V’s mother how Roisin V “causes bad things to happen” and that she stole Steve P from Roisin P, only to have the eVil one over hear and setup a face off which will be elongated tomorrow (Tuesday).


Thankfully, at this point I stopped watching DOOL and read this book ("A Big Boy Did it and Ran Away" by Christopher Brookmyre) instead, which was really good. Might read "Boiling a Frog" by the same author. Currently reading "Stupid White Men: ...and Other Sorry Excuses for the State of the Nation" by Michael Moore, which is very interesting and funny. Then there is "Why Do People Hate America?".

--
mond