Mar. 16th, 2010

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Mar. 16th, 2010 11:22 am
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I've been trying to write about my weekend in Manchester for the last half hour and it's really bloody difficult to do so... because all the best bits won't make sense to anyone else.

Manchester is lovely, after actually getting to see some of it this time. So is the little town of Todmorden which has the bestest tiny cafe in the whole world. Becky's cooking is brilliant. My friends are amazing.

Now, I knew they were amazing anyway, but then they proved it in the most awful circumstances possible. I have some sort of weakness in my knees and sometimes at random they like to dislocate. So my left one did, in the ice rink carpark before the game. Aaaand it didn't pop back in.

I can be flippant about it now, but at the time it's just abject terror because it hurts more than anything I can imagine. Good christ it's painful. And you can't move, so I just had to lie on the ground and wail because you can't do much else.

Unfortunately, that amount of pain removes you from anything resembling rational thought, so I was absolutely 100% convinced the ambulance wasn't coming. It didn't for... um... I can't even remember but time's all messed up in that situation.

There was swearing ("there's a magpie. Bit late for bad luck you black and white cunt") and there was sobbing and there was just terror (what if the stupid kneecap won't go back in augh), but there was also the overriding thought that I really didn't want my friends to see me like that. Really, that's as bad as it gets.

Except they did see me like that and they were absolutely amazing. They made sure I was warm while they all froze (March afternoon in Manchester and it was bitterly cold) and they went with me to hospital and they made sure I was as calm as possible and honestly, I keep saying this but I couldn't ask for better friends.

The ambulance did make it (of course), gas was administered and holy wow that stuff's lethal, and at the hospital they put my knee right, strapped me up, gave me more drugs (giant flourescent pink pills ftmfw) and told me to go to a fracture clinic at home. By that point I was off my fucking face, but I do promise that while we were still in the hospital waiting to get picked up, Paul did try to re-enact the video to Poker Face. And I'm sitting there thinking, how is this my life? This is the most surreal turn of events and yet I'm alright and... that's the thing, I'm alright.

Old Me would have went to bits and still be moping over this. Now, I'm still finding things about this that are just funny. And there are things about it that are funny (my track record of luck in Manchester is now so bad that Becky says I'm going in a big inflatable bubble when I come back), and after I got back to the house, fell asleep on the sofa for a while, woke up and realised "oh, shit, that happened", I was fine. I was still cracking jokes and laughing and just getting on with it. Because honestly, what else is there to do?

I did feel bad at the time because I scared everyone shitless and it is embarrassing, of course it is. But it's alright now, and I'll heal and get on with it and one day I'll go to Manchester and not be ill or in a hospital. The point is: I ended up in an ambulance and didn't see any hockey and still had a really brilliant weekend and that just goes to show you the value of good company.

Just Getting On With It is not something I've ever been good at, but I got out of this relatively unscathed. My knee hurts, of course, but I'm fine. Which is a revelation for someone who spends all their time worrying about emergencies and then one happens and you realise, oh. I can deal with this. I could possibly have dealt with it a bit better, but I dealt with it all the same.

And oh. Trust your friends, dear. Honestly, trust your friends.

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Kerrie Sakura

July 2010

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