Christmas
Eve night is an odd one in hospitals. Some years it can be incredibly busy, and
I have had the quietest night ever (one blood sample all night) on a Christmas
Eve night. Last night I processed fifty blood counts, twenty-eight clotting investigation,
issued one bag of platelets for transfusion, accepted delivery of a load of
blood for the stock fridge and dispatched one sample to the reference lab for
specialist investigations. There were blood samples coming in all night long
too. Compared to last year the workload was definitely up.
Something
else that was up was the traffic on the road this morning. I can remember Dad
picking me up after a Christmas Eve night shift in the mid-eighties. On the
thirty-mile drive back to Hastings we saw six other cars (we counted). I
lost count of the amount of cars about by the time I’d got to the motorway this
morning, and the motorway was as busy as any Sunday morning really.
I got home and went to
bed. After an hour “er indoors TM” went to collect “Daddy’s
Little Angel TM”,“Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
and “Darcie Waa Waa TM” and made the schoolgirl error of
not letting Treacle come upstairs. Treacle howled and whined and barked for
attention, so I only got an hour’s sleep. I got dressed, came downstairs and
sat on the sofa trying to doze with the dogs until everyone arrived.
Just
as I was nodding off so the door flew open and the carnage started. In her excitement
of seeing everyone Bailey tiddled all over me, so there was a two-minute hiatus
whilst I got changed.
Littluns
unwrapped (ripped open) pressies, Alexa alternately played Christmas music
and fart sounds. As did “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
who is trying to be able to fart on command. After all, if the Alexa can do
it, why shouldn’t he be able to do so?
“er indoors TM” boiled up a frankly amazing Christmas dinner. Wine, beer and snowballs
flowed. In previous years we’ve played all sorts of Christmas games. This year
we just sat at the table talking and farting and eating (and drinking)
far too much.
Half-way
through the evening “My Boy TM” and Cheryl arrived and stayed
for an hour or so.
And
all too soon it was bed time. “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
went to bed… and came down to the toilet. And went back to bed… and came down
to the toilet. He must have come down to the toilet at least ten times.
I’d
not been feeling at all Christmassy this year, but today was a rather good Christmas…
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