Skip to main content

tat bottomed girls

After one of my spinal surgeries, I did a stint in rehab. Not rehab for my addiction to jellies(jelly sweets). Physical rehab to get me up off my ass, As it got to big from my aforementioned addiction to jellies. They are totally over the top about health and safety there. Everything I asked to do  and they said "no no no".

I was escorted to the bathroom one day, the healthcare assistant looked at my ass and said " Did you have an accident, you have a bruise?" I said "no" so she went to get a nurse to come and look at it. I was thinking to myself I know I have an arse that could eclipse J-LO's but surely I would feel a bruise. So the nurse came in and took a look. She turns to the healthcare assistant and says while pointing to my ass " That's not a bruise, it's a bloody tattoo!".

On behalf of my ass and tattoo I was deeply offended!! ( It's not a very obvious tattoo, its not a tramp stamp that says bitch. It's a memorial thing. )

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life Under the Knife

Hello, is it fun you're looking for? I suppose I'd better explain myself before things get weird. < Last year I was in hospital for over 3 months. My Dad visited me every day with coffee and cakes (thank you Dad)!!!. We were chatting one day when I said "Do you remember people telling Mam that she should write a book?" ( sadly she took the stairway to heaven 3 years ago). I said to my Dad "Can you imagine the book we could have written together?" You see the condition that we both suffer from is called Neurofibromatosis type 2 (NF2). We were both in and out of hospital pretty much all of our lives. I was thinking to myself that I don't have enough for a book, but maybe a blog. The craziest things happen to me and around me. What's one thing I do have? Stories so crazy, they'd make you question reality. I was pretty much completely blind, so I had nothing to do but think. I tried to remember the 20 years worth of stories and I have a me

Walk the Circle( Lines are so last year!)

I was never very good at lines, doing lines in school, drawing straight lines, cutting a straight line, colouring between the lines, walking in a straight line ( walking in a circle was more my thing) driving between the lines on the road do a line of shots(and still be standing by the last one) you get the picture Getting a line (canula) into my veins is along the same lines. My veins are as contrary as the rest of me! When they see a needle, they just collapse or go into hiding. I am notoriously hard to stick a needle into, it usually takes dozens of tries. I leave the doctors looking like a golf course. Unfortunately, I don't get a pint at the nineteenth hole unless it's blood. On the occasion that I was having several tests on the same day that required a line, a whole team of doctors and nurses came around, so that when one failed, another had a go. This was about 10 people. The whole team  inspected all four limbs. I felt like a sushi roll or something! Then as if b

War of the Restrooms

Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition.... or to get into a bar fight in a disabled bathroom! There are certain types of women you do no get on the wrong side of or indeed ask them to step aside. After 5 months in the slammer, (hospital), I was parched, my mouth was a dry as the Sahara. I couldn't walk anymore, so I basically crawled to a watering hole in Dublin's city centre. From my now waist high perspective, I managed to get the barman's attention and procured a glass of the life giving gold stuff. A friend put on some beer goggles and joined me in the land of pink elephants (those elephants were tap dancing if I remember correctly!). You know the movie, inside I'm dancing? Well inside I was at a bloody rave! As my friend and I got down to the important matters and traded war stories about doctors, she could hear an ear-splitting voice screeching from the other side of the pub. She assured me it was one of those voices you don't f*ck with! A drink or 3 can