In Stitches

Am now back at work in Enfield, having endured a twenty-four hour journey from Assagao in Goa. A journey not without it's discomforts....

Friday was my final day in the sun, and I was due to leave the apartment in Assagao in a taxi at 6am Saturday morning. I decided to take a scooter ride up to the Chapora Fort on Friday afternoon, and was wending my way through the winding village streets on my Honda when disaster struck. I overtook a stationary bus, and as I passed it I glanced over my left shoulder. Somehow, this managed to unbalance the scooter, and before I knew it my right shoulder crashed into the tarmac, closely followed by my forehead. I sat in the middle of the road in disbelief.....I'd been due to take the bike back to the hire company in three hours or so!

I realised I was bleeding quite heavily from a head wound, and a small crowd of locals had gathered at the side of the road. I eventually staggered to my feet, and wobbled over to the dusty verge, where a couple of locals poured bottled water over my wounds. One chap clawed a handful of earth from the roadside, saying that it would stop the bleeding.....fortuneately, I was compus mentis enough to decline the offer. An elderly gentleman offered me some lemonade in a rather grubby looking glass.....I felt compelled to accept his kindness.

I was told there was a hospital nearby, and a local man offered me a ride on the back of his motorbike. His five year old daughter rode on the front! He stopped at a small bar on the way to allow me to purchase a bottle of water, and dropped me at the front door of St. Anthony's Hospital and Research Centre, where a chubby, jolly Dr. Provin greeted me with a warm smile. I was ushered into a small room, and climbed up onto what looked like a butcher's block. It didn't look particularly clean, and the blue plastic pillow I was proferred looked decidedly unhealthy. I let myself go, and lay back and stared at the ceiling fan whirling above my head.

Dr. Provin got stuck into cleaning the clotting from my head wound, and I soon realised he was doing a bit of sewing! The nurse cleaned up the grazing to my right leg and arm, applying a red unction that stained my skin, making me look as if I was being prepared for the tandoori oven. Within 15 minutes they'd sorted me out, and I was discharged with some antibiotics and a bill for 600 rupees. If I'd been to A&E at Homerton Hospital, I would still have been waiting three hours later!

My plan to purchase a motor scooter to get me round London town will now be shelved indefinitely!