Best Of Luck Mick & Carole

Great story told to me last night. I thought I’d share it with you.

Now, normally, when there’s a funny story to tell, I’d be expected to hide the names of those involved, but for this, I think I’m gonna name the names. It’s about time they had a real good laugh, even if it is at themselves.

Mick Basterfield has recently been in hospital. He has been having heart problems and will be going in for bypass surgery in October (all being well). Of course, we all wish him the very best of luck and we pray that God is on his side.

He’s been taking various tablets to help him, one of which, thins out his blood and prevents it from coagulating too rapidly. This is all good and above board. All very well for his heart and everything, but…… what if you get a nose bleed? How about you cut your hand open? Or, as in Mick’s case, what if you get an abscess under one of your teeth and it starts bleeding in the middle of the night?

4 O’clock in the middle of the night, and Mick is hovering over the bathroom sink, trying to stop a bleeding tooth that simply will not stop.

When the daytime eventually arrives, Mick and his partner, Carole, take a trip to Sandwell General Hospital. Mick, at this point is feeling very down. His health has been poor for a while now and this feels like another kick up the arse that he doesn’t need. Carole is tired. She’s done enough worrying for the two of them. Her employers have been complete arseholes and have made this time that she needs to be strong for Mick a difficult and more stressful time. Anyway they soldier on and take the trip to Sandwell Hospital where there is the inevitable waiting game.

Eventually, Sandwell Hospital’s staff, have to make the decision that they can’t treat Mick’s problem themselves. A dentist is needed and the best solution, as far as they are concerned is for Mick and Carole to get on the next bus to Birmingham and visit the Dental Hospital. Mick, at this point, is resembling Dracula, as blood runs constantly from his tooth, down his chin and all over his collar. He’s holding a bandage to his face and a collecting cup, to try to collect the blood and spittle, but it’s a mess. He doesn’t want to have to go by bus. He doesn’t want people looking at him on the bus. It’s embarrassing and he knows he’ll feel uncomfortable but he has little choice. He’s feeling weak now and needs to be sorted. Besides, Carole insists that they go.

They arrive in Birmingham slightly lost. Birmingham is a big place and like most of us, they had no idea where to find the dental hospital. They took directions from passersby and eventually saw a newish looking building that had been described to them with the legend “DENTAL HOSPITAL” in large, friendly lettering. What they failed to notice was the arrow beside the sign which was indicating a building about 100 or so yards away.

This is where the Gods of Comedy & Tragedy swapped rolls and allowed Comedy to take hold of the situation. Comedy (with the help of tiredness) blinded their eyes to every sign other than the one that said “PATIENTS ENTRANCE”.

At last, they thought, they were finally here.

They approached the receptionist and explained that Sandwell Hospital had sent them there for treatment, as they themselves didn’t have the qualified staff to deal with the treatment needed.

The receptionist nodded and with a slight note of confusion added that Sandwell should have checked first, because they “only had one appointment left for a “walk-in”, but never mind, take a seat, we’ll call you in as soon as someone is able to see you….”

They sat at the nearest available spare chairs and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Carole & Mick sat patiently waiting for someone to come and see them. Mick was still nursing his bandage and cup. Carole was absent-mindedly looking around the room and wondering, quietly to herself about the advertisements on the walls and the Television set hanging on the wall.

All of the adverts seemed to be about HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases. Posters for Condoms. Phone Numbers you could call for help and advice about dealing with your partner – if you have AIDS. The TV set was on a loop of advertisements all about the same thing. HIV, AIDS, GONORRHEA, SYPHALIS and CHLAMYDIA, PUBIC LICE and SCABIES. Puzzling. Very puzzling.

Carole’s mobile phone rang. It was Davina, Carole’s daughter, enquiring as to the situation.

“Oh Hello, Dear. Yes, were okay. We’re at the Dental Hospital now, just waiting to be seen”

The receptionist looked sharply at Carole, as if she’d heard her say something that she didn’t understand. Carole didn’t stop talking to find out what the strange look was for, she carried on relating the day’s events to Davina whilst next to her, Mick continued to hold his jaw.

A while later, a strange Asian gentleman came and sat next to Carole. He was smiling and wobbling his head in the way that some of them do. A bit like those toy dogs in cars where the head is free to wobble in an exaggerated way. He was smiling and looking and wobbling his head. Carole shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Mick clenched his jaw. Poor bloke. He was properly miserable.

After a while, Mr Wobble-Head moved away and the receptionist called for Mick to go through to the next room, where someone would deal with him. At last. After a hour and a half’s waiting. Hurray.

Carole waited and watched the Chlamydia advice video.

A deep voiced doctor in white coat sat Mick down and asked the nature of his problem.

“Well, I’ve been sent by Sandwell Hospital because they cant help me.” Doctor Deep-Voice nodded. “My mouth has been bleeding since 4 O’clock this morning and I need it fixed.” Doctor Deep-Voice started to look a little bemused. “ They said to come here to the Dental Hospital”

“Mr Basterfield” said Doctor Deep-Voice, “This is not the Dental Hospital”

Mick looked at the doctors face to see if he was hearing this correctly.

“Mr Basterfield, this is the SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASES CLINIC”

Mick and Carole eventually found the Dental Hospital and after 3 teeth out and 12 stitches, he’s fixed. Well, as far as his bleeding gums are concerned, he’s fixed.

Mick. We all wish you well with your forthcoming operation. Thanks for giving us a good giggle.