Spending a few nights in hospital is child’s play

I’M CONSTANTLY amazed at how some people cruise through life without as much as a hiccup.

My life is a case of stumbling from one crisis to the next.

When I was a kid, my mum was forever shaking her head when I’d turn up with the latest injury, be it a broken bone, bleeding limb, bee sting or outof-the-ordinary mishap.

At age four, I once fell unconscious after scoffing half a bottle of what I must have thought was soft drink but was actually methylated spirits.

After finding me asleep on the garage floor, my parents rushed me to our family doctor in Ingham who simply advised: “He’ll sleep it off.”

It’s a prescription that I was to hear regularly as I got older.

But such mishaps have regularly visited me since. Even last weekend. Around Saturday lunch-time I felt all was not what as it should be within.

As usual, I did nothing about it and it progressively got worse.

By late Sunday things were becoming serious and, reluctantly, I ushered myself off to St Vincent’s Hospital.

For some reason, which remains a mystery, there was swelling from within which had medicos collectively stroking their chins.

It was decided that it would be best for me to remain for a couple of days.

The hospital was full but I was eventually found a bed – in the Children’s Ward.

Now, being in St Gabriel’s Ward didn’t bother me in the least, and being surrounded by teddy bear curtains and child-themed paintings, not to mention the toy room directly across from my room, had a soothing effect – particularly for a big kid like me.

However, it gave no end of sledging material to my mates.

‘‘ THE PAIR OF THEM ARRIVED TO FIND ME IN A KIDDIES ROOM AND BURST INTO LAUGHTER.

One of them messaged me, asking for directions to my room.

“I’m in the Children’s Ward.” “Don’t jerk me around or you won’t get a visit, now where are you?” “I’m in the Children’s Ward!” The pair of them arrived to find me in a kiddies room and burst into laughter.

“Well, at least you can fit the beds in here,” one quipped, poking fun at my height, or lack thereof.

“Did the nurse give you a lollipop?” “No,” I grumbled, “I’m ‘nil by mouth’, what a shame the same doesn’t apply to you pair.”

The sledging got worse, but I won’t bore you with that here.

I couldn’t praise highly enough the hospital staff who made the adults invading the Children’s Ward so comfortable and welcome. However, another dilemma arose. It was probably the first time the Sky News channel had been on the TV in room 4A of the Children’s Ward, not to mention a certain other adult program.

Well, there’s not much else to do but watch TV when lying in bed connected to a drip and the remote control seemed to get stuck on Married At First Sight.

It’s not a show that is easy to watch but it was even more difficult with a thumb on the remote control button and one eye on the door in case a nurse walked into the room, in which case I would cough and quickly switch the channel to Sky News.

I was flicking back and forth so regularly that for a moment I swore Andrew Bolt was on MAFS.

At one point a nurse came in to take my blood pressure, temperature and whatever else needed checking and noticed I was watching Sky News.

She was probably thinking “Typical journo, can’t stop watching the news”, while I was thinking “Please hurry up, I want to see if Mark and Ning finally get it on”. By the time the nurse left, I’d missed the end of the show.

For the record, I’m fine and back at work none the worse for the experience.

But can anyone tell me if Mark and Ning got it on?