We arrive at A&E, screeching into the wrong car park. The ambulance one.
Now my little red punto wasn't quite up to the camouflage tactics required here, so thankfully help was at hand. A very, very, chilled off-duty Paramedic smoking his rolly, drinking a coffee, made an assessment of the blind panic on our faces, the frantic struggles of Mr. J, calmly took another drag of his rolly and said "spine yeah"? Very Monty Python.
Bless him, he then single-handedly whipped me out of the car, into a wheelchair and without spilling a drop of coffee, steered me to the afore mentioned delight that is A&E. Thank you for ever you lovely man.
He then left me for Mr. J to come and register etc. In he arrives, all flustered (he's a bit of a panicker my boy), and says "Right, I need to get you booked in - I'll just stick you over there while I do that."
Being a woman, his suggestion for where to 'stick me' was not my ideal one, so I said, No, I'd rather be over there, thank you, near those more normal (?!??!) people.
Even in that moment of panic, craziness and terror he managed to find some Little Britain humour, saying ""Seriously, you want that one, not that one". Me. "Yes, that one over there"
We even made some other people laugh in here, which is quite an achievement, trust me.
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