Yes, I Know You’re Fine
It’s the Sports Association’s Winter Ball. Everyone’s a bit drunk, but mostly well behaved. You’re not that bad, but you’ve had just enough to stumble and knock your head.
You’re fine. You’ve got a bit of a sore head, but all the rest of our checks are clear. You’ve not even got a lump. I’m just finished off the checks, and you’re a little fed up. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, we know. This is just routine, just in case.”
I potter about a bit more with pen torches and other gadgets.
“I know, I’m nearly finished.”
I start writing up, and have to ask for a load of details from you.
“Look, Jane. We now you’re fine.” LittlePara (my partner for this expedition in the world of the drunk) interjects. “But if you keep saying your fine like that, we’re going to start getting worried. Please, just shut up, let us finish the paperwork, and you can be on your way.”
I give LittlePara a look. I don’t really approve of telling patients to shut up, but I suppose if it works, I can’t complain too much. I finish my questions, hand her a copy of the paperwork, and her friend a copy of our head injury instructions (just in case she isn’t fine). “You’re fine. I suggest you go home, get some sleep, and you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“I’m…” She starts
“I know. That’s what I just said.” Her friend grins.
“I think they got the message, Jane.”