Soldiering On...? Career Swerve?
My time as a trainee Mental Nurse was coming to an end and my Army Intake date was getting closer.
In the final 4 weeks of nursing, I ended up on a full cycle of “lates” (1400 to 2200) and nights (2200 to 0600), so my trusty Vespa 200cc was an excellent mode of transport.
It was on wintery night, keep in mind this was England so summery nights were never much of a thing, I set off home at around 2215hrs having completed the handover to the next shift.
Yes, it was raining, not heavy, but constant and had been for most of the day.
My route home took me via a village, passing only on the periphery with only a “T-junction” to negotiate.
As I approached the junction, usually a very quiet area at that time of night, I noticed a small white van stopping at the giveaway markings, as it should giving way to my flow of traffic.
Naturally, I continued on, easing off the accelerator a little but in the knowledge I had right of way and all was good.
However, as I started to move across the “T”, the van suddenly decided it would be a good idea to pull out and make its manoeuvre….
Urgh!
Applying brakes on a quite weighty machine like my scooter, something with small wheels and with the rain conditions…well, it won’t go well will it?
The wobble came and I ended up flying through the air over the handlebars and face-planting on the street corner, the scooter sliding to a messy grave at my feet.
My immediate reaction was of course to try and get up and have “words” with the van driver…several muscles in my body said “No we are not playing” and the blood pouring down my face concerned me. The peak of my helmet had been dis-attached in the aerobatic display part of the accident and embedded into my brow.
Looking up I could not see the white van, clearly he had legged it and I had no means of identifying it other than it being a small white van…the days before CCTV coverage so hey.
Fortunately, a guy pulled up and gathered me up into his car and took me to AE (Accident & Emergency).
The main thing I will always remember about the hospital experience was the nurse who put stitches in my head.
“Have you had stitches before?”
“Errm….nope”
“Well, contrary to myth, they DO HURT!”…and she wasn’t wrong lol (no anaesthetic by the way, straight in with the needle and thread, yum).
A lot of bruising and some torn torso muscles as well as the Frankenstein facial look, meant I put myself on sick leave for the final 4 weeks of my nurse training. Naturally, my focus was to get well QUICKLY as my Army intake was drawing near.
The scooter was a writeoff, the white van driver was never traced and I had to pay for the machine to be collected and scraped - YAY!
In my next scribble, I will recount the stages of the British Army intake for a slightly bruised newbie…
Until Next Time,
