Times have been a little unsettling here in Head Rambles Manor of late.

There was nothing bad, as such, but the routine of life was slightly disturbed by a series of events which caused some slight ripples in our otherwise calm life.

Life here is normally pretty quiet and peaceful.  The day to day activities of getting drunk, beating up tourists and sabotaging road works have a certain tranquillity about them which gives me a sense of order and of place.  So, when something comes along that upsets that routine, I feel a sense of unease.

Over the last few months, I have had to deal with some institutions with which I normally only have a remote and passing acquaintance.  For example there was The Wedding which was a thoroughly enjoyable occasion but still led to a certain amount of upheaval.

Another institution which I try to avoid like the plague is our so called health system.  Unfortunately, I have had a lot of dealing with them over the past few days, involving hospital stays and general mayhem.  I hate hospitals.  The last time I was involved with them was as a result of my send-off party in RTE which ended in spectacular style and necessitated a couple of nights hospitality in the local MRSA centre.  That’s another story though.  Suffice it to say that I survived, but only just.

The last few days involved a lot of wandering around wards, and sitting in the hospital restaurant.  The hospital in question has no grounds, so leaving the building meant standing around in an industrial estate which isn’t my idea of fun.  So what did I do about my little hobby?

In the normal course of things, hospitals seem to have a strange aversion to pipe smoking, which is something I can’t quite understand.  I think it very unreasonable of them.  I would have thought that the site of a pipe smoker would relax people in an otherwise anxiety provoking situation, but they don’t see things from my enlightened point of view.

This time though I had my e-pipe.

One of the great advantages of an e-pipe is that you don’t waste time lighting it.  It is instantaneous.  Also it can be slammed into a pocket without worry of spontaneous combustion.  It also doesn’t leave a tell tale smell of pipe smoke.  This all meant that a quick puff in the lift or on the stairs was no problem at all.  In fact at one stage, I happily sat in the restaurant and puffed away, and no one noticed.  I was caught at one stage in the lift when the doors opened unexpectedly.  A couple of women entered and I smiled at them in a friendly way, but then realised I was gently exhaling a cloud of vapour at the time.  They got off very quickly at the next floor.

Another time, I was lying there in the room, half asleep, and the pipe going like the clappers when a nurse walked in.  I should explain that the staff in the hospital are the nicest people you could meet, so instead of hosing me with a fire extinguisher, she gently reminded me that the hospital [in fact, the whole fucking country] is a no smoking area.  I told her I wasn’t smoking which confused her.  I gently explained, and she was impressed.  She was so impressed that I was given carte blanche to smoke in my room.  She was so impressed that I think we could have made a night of it, but unfortunately she kicked with the other foot.  You win some, you lose some.

To cut a long story short, life is now back to normal.  I hope.

The elections are over, my car is fully certified, my daughter is at last married and all bodily bits are back where they should be.

In short, I don’t expect anything to happen for the next couple of months.

I love peace and quiet.

Now where is my gun?

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Ripples — 3 Comments

  1. Well I certainly hope all is well with you. Don’t scare us with stories of hospitals and doctors and nurses. On second thought tell us all about the nurses but Geez(!) please stop with the hospital visits, ok?

  2. Brianf – Of course all is well with me. If I died, I would let you know. Don’t fret – you know I’m a tough old bastard. What do you want to know about the nurses? Do I include the ones who kick with the left foot?

  3. I just read this whole post and realised at the last minute that it wasn’t called “Nipples”.

    Speed reading fail.

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