My great escape... from hospital
Yesterday I had to go to the hospital to see the doc. Parking there is a nightmare. There are lots of small car parks linked together into a sort of maze. It is easy to get lost. I went round and round – not one space empty.
Finally, I left the maze and followed the exit road which also has parking on one side. I was just coming to the last bit of parking; from then on, it is exit road only. ( God, this is boring. Writing it is boring enough; it must be a labour for fans to read.)
But then, there on the left, three cars in from the end was a SPACE! Dived into it head first. Never mind about reversing in; somebody might catch me in the act, think I was leaving, and they would then dive in. This is all-out war, no holds barred.
Got out, full of relief, but now only ten minutes to go before the appointment. It’s a long way to walk back and, recently, I seem to be unable to walk more than ten minutes without becoming exhausted. I can’t possibly walk all that way. I stood there, almost numb. Whatever am I going to do?
A couple of cars went by, on their way out, so I thought I’d better thumb a lift back to the entrance of the hospital. Just then, a third car came along, and I was about to wave a thumb at it, when I saw two ladies in it, both waving at me! What on earth? When it stopped, I saw they were my next-door neighbours! I couldn’t believe it.
The younger lady had to get out to let me in, as it was a two-seater sports car. She then had to sit cross-wise in the boot, clutching armfuls of documents.
They dropped me at the entrance and I checked in; whereupon I was offered a wheelchair, for the first time in my life, and whizzed along the corridors at what seemed to be an amazing speed. Really good fun – beats walking any day. Got there bang on time.
Afterwards, I went back to the entrance and asked if a wheelchair could take me back to my car. But the wheelchair chaps are not allowed to do that; their job is to take patients off the ambulances and on to whatever department they are going to.
I was surrounded by very kind nurses and staff; so I said, ‘How do I get back to my car? I can’t possibly walk it.’
‘We’ll call you a taxi, Raymond,’ they said.
Soon, a taxi turned up and I thought this chap is not going to be pleased when he finds that he’s only got to go a few hundred yards – I’ll give him a fiver. But when I got in, I saw there was £4.86 on the meter already. So a fiver would leave him a tip of 14p. Probably not quite enough. He was a big strong chap who looked after me wonderfully.
The fact that I was clutching a walking stick and in a wheelchair made him think I was in a very poor state of health; much worse than I was.
So, as we drove along, I said, ‘If I give you a tenner, could you take eight? Will that be OK?’
‘Sure, mate,’ he said. Not ‘Thank you, sir, much obliged’, as in the olden days.
So that was it, folks – eight quid to travel a few hundred yards.
WITWCT – What Is The World Coming To?
In the midst of all this chaos and confusion, I, with almost miraculous presence of mind, had remembered to buy a parking ticket. For this, you go to a desk in the hospital, and pay £2. This you guard with your life. Without it, you’ll never get out of the maze.
You drive round it again, searching for the EXIT. At last, having found it, you insert the ticket into the box on a pole and press a button; the barrier then rises, you hope, and you are free!
This day, I clutched the ticket, waiting for the barrier to appear. It didn’t! There wasn’t one! I had parked so far away from the hospital that we weren’t in a car park at all!
I could go home! Home to a glass of wine and a seat in the sun.
The Oldie