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Yesterday my crap moment* was having two engineers off sick due to falling down their own stairs...neither had been drinking! (more of one long all day crap moment really as I already have an engineer on long term sick)
What made your day a crap one??
- Thread starter MrK1
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Funny. That must be a global thing. I went to Uni in Sweden and France and the same thing there...have a coke in the morning helped. Unfortunately these days it's rare that I have sodas at home so I went with the 'water and aspirin' route. Seemed to work but took a lot longer
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Were...the two engineers..doing something together on the stairs that caused them to fall down....?
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- Arendal, Norway
Smacked an old dear in the head this morning...let me explain before I am castigated and ostracised...
was at the gym doing lat pull downs on a machine. (rather than with a grip puller T bar)...there was another machine close to it. It's basically like a seesaw mechanism with two big bars jutting out. The old girl leaned forward towards my machine putting her head in the line of fine...where the bars are, and I couldn't see her until the last minute, as I was at seated level and she was standing. Bumped her under the chin.
Fortunately it wasn't too hard and she was fine...it was a daft move on her part as she acknowledged but not a nice feeling to know you panelled a sweet looking Norwegian Grandmother. Felt bad about it all day. Thankfully I saw her at the last minute and was able to hold the weight...God knows what would have happened if she had taken the full force of the bars with all the weight behind it.
Well as the saying goes..you can't beat the elderly.
If she's in tomorrow, she'll probably kick my head in
was at the gym doing lat pull downs on a machine. (rather than with a grip puller T bar)...there was another machine close to it. It's basically like a seesaw mechanism with two big bars jutting out. The old girl leaned forward towards my machine putting her head in the line of fine...where the bars are, and I couldn't see her until the last minute, as I was at seated level and she was standing. Bumped her under the chin.
Fortunately it wasn't too hard and she was fine...it was a daft move on her part as she acknowledged but not a nice feeling to know you panelled a sweet looking Norwegian Grandmother. Felt bad about it all day. Thankfully I saw her at the last minute and was able to hold the weight...God knows what would have happened if she had taken the full force of the bars with all the weight behind it.
Well as the saying goes..you can't beat the elderly.
If she's in tomorrow, she'll probably kick my head in
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- Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire
This
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- Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire
A few months. It was a suicidal razor, it fell almost 7' from the top of the bathroom cabinet as the wife knocked it off...it took revenge by way of the blade when she picked it up.^
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She's fine
Just a jab in the finger, I'm just glad she didn't try and catch the razor mid air, could have been worse 
Ah that's good news, phew.She's fine
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Literally a crap day, because I had a colonoscopy. But at least everything went well.
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- Southern Ontario, Canada
It snowed today after snowing yesterday. Ah...The Great White North!
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- Round the bend
Well what can I say, this possibly ranks amongst the three most unpleasant experiences of my life right up there with having blisters peeled off my whistle and flute in Preston Royal whilst every student nurse in the hospital watched and having root canal treatment without any novocaine.
So - Thursday - I ate the final meal of a condemned man, knowing I would be unable to have anything other than clear fluids for the next 24 hours and then finished work - at 7pm I reconstituted sachet A with Sachet B and a litre of water and drank - OMFG - it felt like 3-in 1 oil and tasted just as good - Three full glasses of this I had to neck, so bos to the drinking slowly over an hour I jsut necked the lot and tried not to barf.
Well I waited and waited and nothing happend... I waited a bit more and still nothing happened then at 11pm the world flopped out of my arse and continued to do so until 12,45am....
I got to a point where I thought that there was nothing else possibly left to shit and went to bed, arse stinging and glowing like a cherry.
3am I woke thinking, thats a bit damp to discover that I had sharted in my sleep. Then I shat a bit more (in the WC this time).
7am I was woken by one Mk1 pd off wife who I had woken up at 1am coming to bed and again at 3am and then she supposedly hadnt got back to sleep again whereas I was doing an impression of a stunned asthmatic warthog in my sleep. I was supposed to have drunk all my morning dose of Moviprep by 7am so showered quickly, applied some vaseline to my ringpiece and went downstairs to be met by Sachet A and Sachet B, sniggering at me.
I decided to add some orange cordial into the mix to see if it made it more palatable - no is the answer, no it didnt.
Imagine drinking Swarfega Orange and that was what it felt and tasted like. This time it started to work almost straight away and I was greeted with ever lighter shades of watery poo.
11am - I sneezed and needed another change of pants. FFS - I havent been like this since I was 18 months old.
1pm - I arrive at my designated time at the Endoscopy suite, somehow I have an ear worm of the Waterboys "Whole of the Moon" going around in my head. I make several more trips ( rather noisy) to the toilet rather inconveniently situated next to the waiting room so everyone now knows that Im there for a hosepipe up the ase session.
2pm, I finally get called into the suite and go through my consent - to whit "Colonoscopy +/- Biopsies and +/- Polypectomies" Amusingly the consent form states that I will let them know of any loose dental work - I ask "how fg far are you going with this thing????" I have opted to use entonox only rather than fentanyl and midazolam as I dont want to be off my face.
Then.... I get to strip to the waist ( bottom half) and get issued with a pair of enormous paper pantaloons with an amusing flap in the back. I walk to the theatre trolley and pass a HUGE dog turd mountain of lubricating jelly perched on top of the tray where the 'scope lies. The chap who has the lovely job of dealing with my back end introduces himself, asks me to lie on my left and then applies lubricant which has clearly been kept just above absolute zero to my chocolate starfish - then the screen which has up to this point been showing some sort of 60's lava lamp style bubbly image suddenly shows the room and my arse crack comes into view nearer and nearer - two thoughts strike me
1) My arse is incredibly hairy
2) I have a spot on my right arse cheek
Then - the screen goes momentarily black and my eyes nearly pop out as the scope is pushed into my brown eye showing me the inside of my ( now squeaky clean) rectum....
So, as a medical nursey type person I know that the correct position is to my left with knees drawn up to my ears - that may have been so for about 10 minutes and possibly 2 feet but then I had to adopt a range of positions, on my right, on my back with nurse pushing belly, on my left again, then on all fours with arse in the air and bols swaying in the breeze.
As anyone who has had these will be aware in order to see your bowel properly they inflate you with air - a metric shedload to about 40PSi , this is uncomfortable to say the least, but worryingly when they draw the scope back and it fizzles out of your arse you cant help feeling that you are shg yourself and your arse plays musical tunes - well, something resembling Freaks by Timmy Trumpet if Timmy was a bronchial elephant playing a squashed trombone. Im no stranger to anal beads, but this was on another level entirely.
Anyay, an hour, a whole hour of my life I lay this way and that way watching the TV screen and occasionally getting a little spaced out on the Entonox when it got too uncomfortable. before he decided to take twelve ( count em) biopsies and then lasso two nasty looking polyps he had spied. Oddly it didnt seem to hurt taking the biopsies but by Jehova on a moped I felt battered and bruised the next day, and the next and the next....
When all this was over and they had pulled the last of the scope out of my arse I was wheeled into the recovery lounge where I said to the nice nurse that I absolutely had to go to the bog, she ummed and ahhed a bit thinking I was likely to be groggy but I assured her that I had just had the gas and lied that I not had a whiff of it for 10 minutes or so, I swung my legs off the bed and stood up - sadly my pressurised bowels decided to test my ring of fire and my sphincter just wasnt man enough to withhold the pressurised liquid squit now residing in my gut - I stood and squirted a jet of white hot feeling yellow sh over the bed and up the curtain. I apologised and John Inmaned to the toilet where for 10 full minutes a cacophony of sound and the remnants of sh were fire off down the pan. I hadn't ever thought it was possible to fart for ten whole minutes but I managed it. Later I had heard that people in Iceland thought that a volcano had gone up again.
I returned to my bed to discover that the sheet had been changed but the curtains still bore the yellow stains, though someone had wiped the worst of it off - I had a mouthful of coffee and the BANG was off to the bog again playing the broken elephantrombone.
Eventually they discharged me and Mrs Ted drove me home as my belly was still engorged and the most comfortable position was led flat with the seat fully reclined.
I spent the evening making frequent trips to the bog as each and every voracious trump was accompanied by a little present.
Results back today and its as I feared - surgery beckons rather soon - and sadly more Sachet A and Sachet B fun to clear out my innards.
Gents (and ladies) Dont let my tale put you off - if your doctor says you need 6 feet of twisty telescope putting up your bottom, then get it done. There are things wrong with my innards but with a bit of luck its been caught early enough to fixorate it by lopping a bit out and joining the ends together. Worst case scenario I get a bum transplant.
But ignore it completely then I could have been looking at a selection of pine overcoats down McKennas.
So - Thursday - I ate the final meal of a condemned man, knowing I would be unable to have anything other than clear fluids for the next 24 hours and then finished work - at 7pm I reconstituted sachet A with Sachet B and a litre of water and drank - OMFG - it felt like 3-in 1 oil and tasted just as good - Three full glasses of this I had to neck, so bo
s to the drinking slowly over an hour I jsut necked the lot and tried not to barf.Well I waited and waited and nothing happend... I waited a bit more and still nothing happened then at 11pm the world flopped out of my arse and continued to do so until 12,45am....
I got to a point where I thought that there was nothing else possibly left to shit and went to bed, arse stinging and glowing like a cherry.
3am I woke thinking, thats a bit damp to discover that I had sharted in my sleep. Then I shat a bit more (in the WC this time).
7am I was woken by one Mk1 p
d off wife who I had woken up at 1am coming to bed and again at 3am and then she supposedly hadnt got back to sleep again whereas I was doing an impression of a stunned asthmatic warthog in my sleep. I was supposed to have drunk all my morning dose of Moviprep by 7am so showered quickly, applied some vaseline to my ringpiece and went downstairs to be met by Sachet A and Sachet B, sniggering at me.I decided to add some orange cordial into the mix to see if it made it more palatable - no is the answer, no it didnt.
Imagine drinking Swarfega Orange and that was what it felt and tasted like. This time it started to work almost straight away and I was greeted with ever lighter shades of watery poo.
11am - I sneezed and needed another change of pants. FFS
- I havent been like this since I was 18 months old.1pm - I arrive at my designated time at the Endoscopy suite, somehow I have an ear worm of the Waterboys "Whole of the Moon" going around in my head. I make several more trips ( rather noisy) to the toilet rather inconveniently situated next to the waiting room so everyone now knows that Im there for a hosepipe up the a
se session.2pm, I finally get called into the suite and go through my consent - to whit "Colonoscopy +/- Biopsies and +/- Polypectomies" Amusingly the consent form states that I will let them know of any loose dental work - I ask "how f
g far are you going with this thing????" I have opted to use entonox only rather than fentanyl and midazolam as I dont want to be off my face.Then.... I get to strip to the waist ( bottom half) and get issued with a pair of enormous paper pantaloons with an amusing flap in the back. I walk to the theatre trolley and pass a HUGE dog turd mountain of lubricating jelly perched on top of the tray where the 'scope lies. The chap who has the lovely job of dealing with my back end introduces himself, asks me to lie on my left and then applies lubricant which has clearly been kept just above absolute zero to my chocolate starfish - then the screen which has up to this point been showing some sort of 60's lava lamp style bubbly image suddenly shows the room and my arse crack comes into view nearer and nearer - two thoughts strike me
1) My arse is incredibly hairy
2) I have a spot on my right arse cheek
Then - the screen goes momentarily black and my eyes nearly pop out as the scope is pushed into my brown eye showing me the inside of my ( now squeaky clean) rectum....
So, as a medical nursey type person I know that the correct position is to my left with knees drawn up to my ears - that may have been so for about 10 minutes and possibly 2 feet but then I had to adopt a range of positions, on my right, on my back with nurse pushing belly, on my left again, then on all fours with arse in the air and bol
s swaying in the breeze.As anyone who has had these will be aware in order to see your bowel properly they inflate you with air - a metric shedload to about 40PSi , this is uncomfortable to say the least, but worryingly when they draw the scope back and it fizzles out of your arse you cant help feeling that you are sh
g yourself and your arse plays musical tunes - well, something resembling Freaks by Timmy Trumpet if Timmy was a bronchial elephant playing a squashed trombone. Im no stranger to anal beads, but this was on another level entirely.Anyay, an hour, a whole hour of my life I lay this way and that way watching the TV screen and occasionally getting a little spaced out on the Entonox when it got too uncomfortable. before he decided to take twelve ( count em) biopsies and then lasso two nasty looking polyps he had spied. Oddly it didnt seem to hurt taking the biopsies but by Jehova on a moped I felt battered and bruised the next day, and the next and the next....
When all this was over and they had pulled the last of the scope out of my arse I was wheeled into the recovery lounge where I said to the nice nurse that I absolutely had to go to the bog, she ummed and ahhed a bit thinking I was likely to be groggy but I assured her that I had just had the gas and lied that I not had a whiff of it for 10 minutes or so, I swung my legs off the bed and stood up - sadly my pressurised bowels decided to test my ring of fire and my sphincter just wasnt man enough to withhold the pressurised liquid squit now residing in my gut - I stood and squirted a jet of white hot feeling yellow sh
over the bed and up the curtain. I apologised and John Inmaned to the toilet where for 10 full minutes a cacophony of sound and the remnants of sh were fire off down the pan. I hadn't ever thought it was possible to fart for ten whole minutes but I managed it. Later I had heard that people in Iceland thought that a volcano had gone up again. I returned to my bed to discover that the sheet had been changed but the curtains still bore the yellow stains, though someone had wiped the worst of it off - I had a mouthful of coffee and the BANG was off to the bog again playing the broken elephantrombone.
Eventually they discharged me and Mrs Ted drove me home as my belly was still engorged and the most comfortable position was led flat with the seat fully reclined.
I spent the evening making frequent trips to the bog as each and every voracious trump was accompanied by a little present.
Results back today and its as I feared - surgery beckons rather soon - and sadly more Sachet A and Sachet B fun to clear out my innards.
Gents (and ladies) Dont let my tale put you off - if your doctor says you need 6 feet of twisty telescope putting up your bottom, then get it done. There are things wrong with my innards but with a bit of luck its been caught early enough to fixorate it by lopping a bit out and joining the ends together. Worst case scenario I get a bum transplant.
But ignore it completely then I could have been looking at a selection of pine overcoats down McKennas.
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- Southern Ontario, Canada
I can relate to your experience Father Ted, having been there twice already; you had me in hysterics eventhough it's very unpleasant. In Canada they're now recommending that the "Moon Shot", as I like to call it, not be done unless a fecal test for blood indicates it's necessary. I hope they're right, as I'm due for a third "Moon Shot" in 2018.