Maximum Allowable Blood-Loss

My second night out of the year was last Sunday when a relaxing evening was spent, supine, at Northampton General Hospital.
I popped a couple of veins and lost over 2 litres of one's life-blood, which apparently is life threatening (I know how much was lost as I collected most of it in a large jug so as to minimise the mess). It wasn't at all scary; au contraire, very soothing. That is until one tried to stand up or walk. Certainly there was no panic; probably due to being in control. It wasn't an attempt on my life; anyone who knows me would expect me to make a much better fist of it with my knowledge and experience on the subject.
Eventually the Mounted(!) Police arrived, called by my old chum back in Cov who was a little concerned as it sounded to him that this was more "serious" than my habitual self-injury. The paramedics then arrived and I was propped up in the lift with paramedics and police, feeling bloody awful (excuse the pun) due to a lack of blood in the head and elsewhere when the lift started playing up and said emergency service-folk thought the lift was stuck between floors and jabbed at various buttons! Upshot of this was that I had to stagger down the last couple of flights and say a cheery "hello!" to the two lovely white horses (in uniform) that met us at the door.
It was a blue light job, if only for a mile, as they couldn't get a drip in anywhere. Anyhow, after treatment by a rather attractive young doctor (few bags of saline in the back of my wrist), the wound was treated with a few steri-strips and a squirt of super-glue (I'd made a nice, neat job with a fresh, sharp blade: same principal as keyhole surgery - minimally invasive, saves fuss all round).
I was surprised not to have to hand around all night to see a psychiatrist, but I guess my calm, cheery mood, helpful attitude and nice-neat minimal venous wound convinced them that it wasn't some ill thought-out, spur of the moment, desperate slash & burn. Unfortunately I had to walk home with no shoes on at 1am, which was rather a struggle, physically; but thanks to the cool-headed "mounties" at least I had my keys on me and they'd locked up the flat.
Ah well, it's all fun innit?

Altogether now... White Horses, snowy white horses. Let me fly away... (MP3)

2007 snogs

posted by Andy 06:10