The British Summer Time shift has thrown my sleeping patterns off a bit, so I’m getting a bit of organisation done while I have the chance… On my desk I have a stack of letters that need to be posted tomorrow (including one I should have sent off four months ago, eep!) I have a good start on the final part of my project (though, of cause, I completely forgot to do the business section, which I hate, and had planned to email someone about and forgot…). I also have a ton of rubbish, but it’s slightly organised rubbish, so that’s okay.
I have my plan for tomorrow sorted. The washing machine is loaded, I have my phone on charge, my lunch waiting for me in the fridge, and my alarm (suitably updated) set. I even have an idea about my next post (I actually got to treat a patient a couple of days back, though typically it was while I was off-duty…)
I also have that leaflet about the CBT…
Which I’ve still not done anything about…
So, a couple of days ago I came off of my bike. Again… Not in to a nettle bush this time, which is good, but instead sliding along the tarmac, which is bad. I have some lovely grazes on my knee and elbow, as well as some cuts and bruises on my face.
All things considered, I was lucky. I tore my coat and trousers, shredded a pair of gloves and dented a helmet. Fortunately, this meant that I didn’t seriously tear up my arm or leg, shred my hands or dent my head. Which is good. My glasses didn’t appreciate the encounter with the road either, but at least these are repairable. The rest of my stuff is a write-off, and isn’t going to be amazingly cheap to replace. Particularly not in UniTown.
Embarrassingly, I was in uniform at the time, and was on my way to a my youth leader interview, typically… Luckily, it wasn’t a paramedic I knew, otherwise I’d never have lived that down…
I’m well on the way to healing now, and hopefully will be back on my bike soon (perhaps even this weekend, if I’m lucky). Just have to finish replacing all my kit, as I currently have no smart trousers for my unit meeting on Thursday, oh, and a half-empty First Aid kit…
Morale seems to have reached a nadir, again… Everything, my uni project and Organisation work alike seems to be a constant battle, and I’m just feeling so down.
I’ve been bad. I promised myself that I would make a doctor’s appointment to talk to someone about this, and I haven’t. So tomorrow, I’m going to try to force myself to get my arse in gear. Because this is getting stupid. I can’t work out if I’m feeling bad because everything is going wrong, or if it’s something else, and I’m rapidly approaching burnout. About half an hour ago I nearly withdrew my application for the Youth Leader role, swiftly followed by my notice of stepping down from my Youth role. Which is rubbish, because I love working with the kids at my unit, but at the moment I just don’t know if I can do it. Something has to give, and that may have to be the first to go. Which really sucks.
I feel like I need someone to talk to, right now, but I know it will turn in to a rant, and that’s not fair on Valentines Day, not when the people I would be talking to have loved ones to be spending time with.
So it’s time to follow my own advice, and reach out for help. Because if I don’t, I’m going to crash and burn.
I am most impressed that Wikipedia has a page on the dreaded Freshers’ Flu.
I would argue one point though: it’s not just caught by freshers. Those of us who work closely with them during Freshers’ Week (tech crew, first aiders, helpers, nobody escapes) are just as susceptible…
Funnily enough, we got through a lot of paracetamol during the week!
Thankfully the swellings gone down, and I have been given some hydrocortisone cream by a friendly pharmacist. Unfortunately, this seems to be having no effect as well. The rash is now one of the prickly kind, and I am going mad trying not to scratch it.
Did I mention that I disliked nettles?
I am obviously very sensitive to stinging nettles. Not only is my hand now one big swelling (fun!), the anti-histamines I have are having no effect and I can’t get to a pharmacy to get anything different.
I hate nettles!
I am not best pleased at the moment. I have just had a close encounter with some muppet in an expensive car. A very close encounter. Even closer than the normal encounters I have with cars on a daily basis in UniTown.
While cycling along what is normally a very quiet road, some lovely person decided it would be a good idea to drive as close to the edge of the road as possible, right past me… Now this isn’t a narrow road, so there is no real reason he couldn’t give me enough room. But no…
Faced with a car suddenly appearing in peripheral vision, far too close for comfort or, for that matter, safety, I had to take evasive maneuvers. One way was under the car, so I had to take the other, in to a hedge.
This was the normal sort of hedge you find by the side of a road where there isn’t a pavement: fill of brambles, nettles, prickly bushes and a tree. This did not make the softest or most comfortable of landings.
After a quick self check (head clear, neck feels fine, no severe pain anywhere) I picked myself up, hoping to see the car just down the road. Oh wait, that would be a no. They had hit me and then run off.
Once I had extricated myself from the bushes, I had a look over myself. No obvious signs of bleeding. No head or neck problems appeared. No limbs misbehaving. (Does anyone else think I might be a First Aider?)
Oh. My hands are swiftly swelling up. They obviously found the nettles, and I seem to be particularly sensitive. Perfect.
Self assessment over, I took a look at my bike. Thankfully it was only as rubbish as it had been when I’d left my house.
Happy that I was now probably safe to continue, I mounted up and continued on in to town. I registered a few strange looks from pedestrians, and assumed (wrongly) that it was because my face looked a little beat up.
Arriving in town, my hands felt like they were burning. It was the decision between getting to work on time, or getting some antihistamines. Which do you think won?
One oral antihistamine later, I was on the train, heading for WorkTown.
It was then that I discovered why people were looking at me funny. It turns out I had completely flattened part of my helmet. How I or my head didn’t notice this I have no idea. I didn’t even have a headache.
Incidentally, this is the second helmet I’ve put a proper dent in to. And people wonder why I wear them…
I had another surprise when I had a proper look at my bike on my way home. On the right handlebar, I found that I’d collected some paint. Car paint, to be specific. It seems that before I was dumped my bike managed to get a bit of revenge by itself. I can honestly say that this wasn’t my intention, but seeing it gave me the slight satisfaction of knowing that the driver would have to spend hopefully a not insignificant amount of money repairing that.
I know it’s not very charitable, but I think I have earned the right to be a little please about this…
Go carefully, you cyclists out there.
I had another self-examination, and thankfully all I found was a nice big bruise on my leg, and a couple of sore joints. Aside from the intense irritation from those bloody nettles (no pun intended), I seemed to get away quite lightly. Though I’ll probably feel it tomorrow…