Night-shifts are a thing in themselves. It becomes a way of life that is one step removed from reality. As one plods ones weary way homeward, the rest of the world makes its way to work. As they in their turn hit the heights of an evening out, you pass the public places to put in your time.
My stint of night duties were spent as a Porter in a busy General Hospital. Not the most lofty of duties one might think, but it is and should remain a recognised part of a functioning Hospital.
I put in the hours and I learned a lot on how to spend time overnight in a controlled environment that requires that a lot of time is spent amusing oneself.
My stint of night duties were spent as a Porter in a busy General Hospital. Not the most lofty of duties one might think, but it is and should remain a recognised part of a functioning Hospital.
I put in the hours and I learned a lot on how to spend time overnight in a controlled environment that requires that a lot of time is spent amusing oneself.
I had been hopping from job to job for a good part of three years. I was young and fit, free and quick to learn, on this basis I set out my stall in life and tasted a bit of what was out there. I had only been there a few months when one of the Senior Porters decided to move North to enhance his wifes’ career (she was a Staff Nurse, which in financial terms is a far better proposition than Portering.) As a result the Head Porter asked me if I would apply for the upcoming vacancy. It came as something of a surprise to me but with a little encouragement from the rest of the Staff, I accepted.
The Portering Department works a three-shift rota: 06:00-14:00, 14:00-22:00 and 22:00-06:00. Usually a week on each; this could change with swapping and holiday cover, but in the main kept to this pattern. The General Porters and the Senior Porters work as a team and as jobs come in they respond and go off and do them. At various times set routines must be done – meals, rubbish collection, post delivery and various other duties and despatches. All this interspersed with the phone calls that request anything from collecting a sample (blood, tissue or other unmentionables), to helping out when a gang of undesirables invade A&E. (Accident and Emergency).
All of which is a lengthy preamble to the night in question…
Duff was the Hippy. Nicknames are a part of working there, they appear randomly and stick. In Duffs case – his surname was Dufford – what else is there to say? Others escaped with a nickname from books, from TV, from who knows where? All escapism in some form…
Duff took the call – ‘Would a Porter go to A&E and help with a patient who thinks he is an alien?’
I was doing my first nightly round. Locking doors and making sure the place was as secure as the constraints of an open area would allow. My bleep sounded and I made my way inside to answer the call.
DUFF “Mand? Got a good one here. Can you meet me and an Alien in A&E. They are asking for help.”
ME “What?!”
DUFF “You heard! Get your arse to A&E, I’ll see ya’ there.”
Click.
I sighed and made my way out of the maze that makes up the Accommodation Block. I locked the last door and turned toward the road and noticed a window with smoke billowing from it. I hastily opened the door again and charged up the corridor. As I did so the fire-alarms started their unearthly din. Doors opened and people emerged some rubbing their eyes, some clutching late-night drinks and some without clothes… In other circumstances I might have stopped and indulged in a small ogle, but one has a duty to perform and I passed by, heading for the source of the smoke.
It was easily found. A guy wearing nothing but a sheepish grin dragged a smoking mattress out of his room toward the fire exit whereupon he threw it on the grass; Which was ironic, it was grass that had caused the fire. His last smoke before bed had betrayed him by dropping a small ember onto the bedding and had burned its way into the fabric and then happily settled down to smoulder. The amount of smoke was impressive.
Loud jeers and cat-calls accompanied his return. The Fire Brigade arrived in short order, which is not surprising as they occupy the building just across the roundabout, and dealt with offending article and allowed me turn off the alarm. Silence returned and the Nurses and Doctors returned to their own (and in a couple of cases, to other peoples,) rooms.
At last I was able to respond to Duffs plea to help in A&E.
It was the usual mayhem, with people scattered hither and yon awaiting treatment. The relatives paced up and down, friends called others on mobile phones and a long queue had formed for the single public telephone. I saw instantly where Duff was. He stood outside a cubicle with his arms folded and grinning from ear to ear. He waved me over.
“Hiya. I heard the fire call. Everything ok?”
“Oh yes. A dumbo set his mattress afire with his joint!”
He laughed. “Couldn’t ask for more. This guy,” he indicated inside the cubicle, “is from Uranus. No, Really he is. He told me.”
I looked inside and beheld a very strange colour. It was a darkish, stripy, purple-scarlet colour. It was also upside down. But the most striking feature was his penis; Aside from being green, it was an incredible length.
I cocked a head to one side to try and get things into perspective. The Alien walked on his hands around the small cubicle and talked non-stop. I tried to wrap my head around things (so to speak) and realised at last that the guy had a sort of thick hose pushed over his member which hung down to his chin. I blinked and resumed my position beside Duff.
“So, what are we doing here?”
“Well, the things is, the Docs want him certified. But your man here doesn’t want that at all. He wants some fuel to get him back home – to Uranus.”
“Fuel?”
“Yep. He wants them to fill the, err, appendage, with lighter fuel or any other combustible material. Then he intends to put a match to it and then Bob’s your uncle. Nature will do the rest!”
Duff was shaking with suppressed laughter and had difficulty talking by this point and I have to say that my own mirth however misplaced was bubbling under.
The Department Sister had other ideas. “When you two can be serious for a while, I need to get him into bed. Then Ican pull that…” she hesitated and coloured as the implication of her choice of words hit home. We smirked and started to giggle. - “thing”, she continued, “off his, umm, willy. Then we can examine him properly.”
I dared not look at Duff. I muttered an agreement and mumbled that we would help as best we could and said we would be down by X-Ray and await her call.
We turned away and wandered up the corridor. Around the corner we stopped and looked at each other. The full effect of a single joint shared just after the shift had started took effect and we HOWLED with laughter.
The Portering Department works a three-shift rota: 06:00-14:00, 14:00-22:00 and 22:00-06:00. Usually a week on each; this could change with swapping and holiday cover, but in the main kept to this pattern. The General Porters and the Senior Porters work as a team and as jobs come in they respond and go off and do them. At various times set routines must be done – meals, rubbish collection, post delivery and various other duties and despatches. All this interspersed with the phone calls that request anything from collecting a sample (blood, tissue or other unmentionables), to helping out when a gang of undesirables invade A&E. (Accident and Emergency).
All of which is a lengthy preamble to the night in question…
Duff was the Hippy. Nicknames are a part of working there, they appear randomly and stick. In Duffs case – his surname was Dufford – what else is there to say? Others escaped with a nickname from books, from TV, from who knows where? All escapism in some form…
Duff took the call – ‘Would a Porter go to A&E and help with a patient who thinks he is an alien?’
I was doing my first nightly round. Locking doors and making sure the place was as secure as the constraints of an open area would allow. My bleep sounded and I made my way inside to answer the call.
DUFF “Mand? Got a good one here. Can you meet me and an Alien in A&E. They are asking for help.”
ME “What?!”
DUFF “You heard! Get your arse to A&E, I’ll see ya’ there.”
Click.
I sighed and made my way out of the maze that makes up the Accommodation Block. I locked the last door and turned toward the road and noticed a window with smoke billowing from it. I hastily opened the door again and charged up the corridor. As I did so the fire-alarms started their unearthly din. Doors opened and people emerged some rubbing their eyes, some clutching late-night drinks and some without clothes… In other circumstances I might have stopped and indulged in a small ogle, but one has a duty to perform and I passed by, heading for the source of the smoke.
It was easily found. A guy wearing nothing but a sheepish grin dragged a smoking mattress out of his room toward the fire exit whereupon he threw it on the grass; Which was ironic, it was grass that had caused the fire. His last smoke before bed had betrayed him by dropping a small ember onto the bedding and had burned its way into the fabric and then happily settled down to smoulder. The amount of smoke was impressive.
Loud jeers and cat-calls accompanied his return. The Fire Brigade arrived in short order, which is not surprising as they occupy the building just across the roundabout, and dealt with offending article and allowed me turn off the alarm. Silence returned and the Nurses and Doctors returned to their own (and in a couple of cases, to other peoples,) rooms.
At last I was able to respond to Duffs plea to help in A&E.
It was the usual mayhem, with people scattered hither and yon awaiting treatment. The relatives paced up and down, friends called others on mobile phones and a long queue had formed for the single public telephone. I saw instantly where Duff was. He stood outside a cubicle with his arms folded and grinning from ear to ear. He waved me over.
“Hiya. I heard the fire call. Everything ok?”
“Oh yes. A dumbo set his mattress afire with his joint!”
He laughed. “Couldn’t ask for more. This guy,” he indicated inside the cubicle, “is from Uranus. No, Really he is. He told me.”
I looked inside and beheld a very strange colour. It was a darkish, stripy, purple-scarlet colour. It was also upside down. But the most striking feature was his penis; Aside from being green, it was an incredible length.
I cocked a head to one side to try and get things into perspective. The Alien walked on his hands around the small cubicle and talked non-stop. I tried to wrap my head around things (so to speak) and realised at last that the guy had a sort of thick hose pushed over his member which hung down to his chin. I blinked and resumed my position beside Duff.
“So, what are we doing here?”
“Well, the things is, the Docs want him certified. But your man here doesn’t want that at all. He wants some fuel to get him back home – to Uranus.”
“Fuel?”
“Yep. He wants them to fill the, err, appendage, with lighter fuel or any other combustible material. Then he intends to put a match to it and then Bob’s your uncle. Nature will do the rest!”
Duff was shaking with suppressed laughter and had difficulty talking by this point and I have to say that my own mirth however misplaced was bubbling under.
The Department Sister had other ideas. “When you two can be serious for a while, I need to get him into bed. Then Ican pull that…” she hesitated and coloured as the implication of her choice of words hit home. We smirked and started to giggle. - “thing”, she continued, “off his, umm, willy. Then we can examine him properly.”
I dared not look at Duff. I muttered an agreement and mumbled that we would help as best we could and said we would be down by X-Ray and await her call.
We turned away and wandered up the corridor. Around the corner we stopped and looked at each other. The full effect of a single joint shared just after the shift had started took effect and we HOWLED with laughter.
It is not nice to laugh at others misfortune of course. And I do not condone the behaviour of two grown adults ‘Smoking’ whilst on duty. But, I have to say that we Always did our job well.But above all - we had FUN when we did the night shift.
1 comment:
What a fun night!
And then Bob’s your uncle? I near wet myself.
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