Regurgitated post from 2011 from another site:
So I saw on Facebook yesterday that my best friend had been taken to hospital. Before you judge me for finding out via Social Media that my best friend was dying of an unnamed disease, I’m not sure what, possibly testicular cancer or hemorrhoids, I would like to point out that a) I moved interstate a couple of years ago and can totally be excused from knowing what is happening half way across the country and b) she is even more obstinate than me (as hard to believe as that is) and never lets on when she needs help.
So, there you have it.
I’m totally blameless in all of this.
Stop judging me.
Having her in hospital all the way over there made me think about the last time I was in hospital and she came and brought me a care package. I don’t usually like to tell people how I ended up in hospital, I like to call it a clumsy moment. But really is was a Coordination Failure of the Highest Order.
Here’s the thing.
I was in the middle of trying to get a restraining order against my ex-husband so I had paperwork spread out all over the living room floor, at the same time I was mopping the kitchen and chatting online to my, then, boyfriend. My boyfriend said something that was grossly offensive that I can’t exactly remember (I can’t be expected to do all the work, people!) like No, Ryan Reynolds is NOT the sexiest man alive or I see your point and it has validity, but we’ll have to agree to disagree this time, My Darling and I got justifiably upset, turned around as I let out a curse word or two into the empty room….
This post is interrupted to bring you the “Tip of the Day”
Curse at your partner behind their back. That way they never have the right of reply and you will always win whatever disagreement you are having – either real or imagined. After all – Winning is what matters in a marriage.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled blog.
… stormed into the living room. Wherein I promptly tripped over the bin that I had moved in there in order to mop the kitchen floor, skidded on some paperwork and impaled myself between the toes on a 2 ringed binder quite deeply and convincingly. To cut a long story only a little bit long – the ensuing infection spread up as far as my knee before I was admitted to hospital.
Knowing me as well as she does, my best friend recognised that I was going to get bored very quickly sitting in hospital connected to a drip with no shiny things to distract me or small children to make fun of and brought me a care package. I’ve heard talk that flowers are the traditional gift in hospital, in this case my hospital gift consisted of:
- a Mr Potato Head style Elmo toy, complete with elephant outfit and noises
- Bubble Wrap – thank goodness it wasn’t my thumbs that were injured
- Maccas Trivial Pursuit – all my pursuits are trivial
- Coke Zero
- Grain Waves
Which is why when I found out she wasn’t well, I called the local florist there and convinced her to go and buy a colouring in book and crayons to deliver with the flowers I was sending. Cause I’m the kind of caring friend that makes sure the hospital staff delivering your gift start to suspect that you’re one of the special kids. You’re welcome!
Quote of the day:
After seeing that a chicken schnitzel was burned
<creepy stare with knife and fork by his face> “Mmmmm Dinner is arson flavoured, tonight”