Friday, February 23, 2007

First job

For the inspiration behind this blog click here.

We all remember our first job don't we? I'm guessing that for most it was probably a paper round, like the memory posted below. What was the reason for the job in the first place, can you remember? A new bike, or toy? Our parents encouraged us to earn a bit of our own money and I remember it felt like I would never get enough money for the new bike I was after....


“My first job was a paper-round. I didn’t particularly enjoy it but I got really good tips at Christmas time. I think it helped that I knew most of the people I delivered to anyway, and so the tips weren’t that bad really.

There was this one occasion there had been a rave in area the night before. I was obviously too young to go to such a thing but there had been a fair bit of chat about it in the area – mainly voices of concern against the whole thing you know? The whole “bad influence”, “drugs” and such like – in those days all adults tied drugs into every event imaginable – even taking a bus into town could mean meeting people selling or pushing drugs. I‘m sure I’m not the only one with that recollection of parents at that time.

So I was walking down the road going to work the day after the Rave and I kept coming across all this rubbish and all sorts on the streets. It ranged from water bottles and crisp packets to odd socks and used condoms. I couldn’t wuite get my head around the sondoms really. Not that I looked closely, but I could tell they’d been used, but why were they in the middel of the road. Not exactly a quiet road either and not so close to the Rave venue. Did someone use it, keep it and then discard it later? Did they mean to take it along with them, in its used state, or did it cling to some clothing? Not sure really if the answer to that is something much more obvious that I haven’t got yet!

Asides from this crap on the street though there was also a hell of a lot of lager too. All these cans and bottles just lying there, all inviting. They were all unopened too!

Of course, being fifteen and not legally of age to drink (ha, ha!) this lager, its just asking me to pick it up and drink it– isn’t it?!

So that’s exactly what I did. I took as much as I could carry back to my house – about a dozen cans all in I think, which I put down to having long, gangly arms and the sheer will of the moment! Then I “stashed” them in the shed so’s my Dad wouldn’t find them.

Then I turned round and went on and did my paper-round. As I was going round the houses I kept hearing people complaining about the mess in the streets, the amount of people and noise there had been, blah, blah, blah. I just kept smiling to myself about the find I’d made. Who really cared about the rest of it – I missed the whole thing, slept like a log and none of it impacted me in any way. I just thought they were a bunch of moaners really!

The next weekend, me and a couple of my friends stayed over at one of their houses, “sans” parents. This was the perfect chance to make the most of the stash from the Rave – no parents to ask questions, raise eyebrows or lay down the rules. So we drank about half of those beers in secret .

Do you know it felt, looking back on it, like such a major thing at the time. The lager being “found”, the secrecy of the drinking, the underage bit, all of it. We felt quite carefree and a bit drunk if I remember. We can only have had about three or four a piece but it was enough. Those were the days eh?”.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Another first memory of hospital

For the inspiration behind this blog click here.

Sorry its been a while since I posted a memory. Time has been flying by and I just got caught up. So I hope you are all well and thanks for stopping by again.

Here's another first memory of hospital. It was told to me by a slightly drunken colleague who still has a passion for disliking her doctor of over 30 years ago!

The bubble

“Well I was a wee tiny person and I had a chest infection. I couldn’t breathe properly. Mum panicked, (my dad was still at work) and phoned the doctor. A Dr Foster. I remember because he was the bad person that put me in hospital! I hated him for it, hated him with a passion. I was two and a half.

Apparently an ambulance came out to the house. Gran had been called as my Dad couldn’t get home quick enough. My mum was hysterical – I don’t remember that but my gran told me later. We got the ambulance to hospital which I have vague memories of in terms of noise and flashing lights.

What I do remember well is being put into an oxygen tent – can’t fail to remember that – a big bubble thing all around me. I was jagged in the bottom because I was that hysterical about being put in the bubble. That calmed me down a bit I suppose.

Time seemed to take forever to go by and I would just lie there as there wasn’t much else to do really. I guess that’s why I may have gotten a bit panicky at times.

Dad was good though, he calmed me down. He sat with me for a couple of days but he was obviously still working. So he’d sit with me and wait till I fell asleep, and then go off to work. I woke up and saw he wasn’t there and panicked. I ripped the oxygen tent and got out, got dragged back by four nurses and injected with god knows what - all because my father wasn’t there when I woke up.

I got discharged later that day – they just wanted rid of me cause I caused so much rumpus in the hospital.”

Friday, January 19, 2007

First time in hospital

For the inspiration behind this blog click here.

What about those childhood memories for those of us unfortunate to have had a hospital stay at young age? Hopefully you will have only been in a short time and that it was nothing serious, or perhaps you have been lucky enough not to have spent any time in hospital.

“I recall the children’s ward and the colours being bright. I rememeber the pain in my throat and being made to eat cornflakes after my first night in the ward. Yes, I had my tonsils and adenoids out. The matron was cruel and made me eat cornflakes.”

Does this sound familiar to you? Does it bring back some old emotions? These are the memories that tend to shape the impression of a hospital forever and, whilst we know as adults, that it was in fact just that, a childhood memory, it’s a damn hard one to change when you are confronted with a hospital visit or indeed a further hospital stay, as an adult.


“I remember I was getting a sinus operation done when I was young. I still have sinus troubles now, but not nearly as bad as they might be if I hadn’t had this operation and the tubes flushed.

When I came round I had all this packing material up my nose. The agony in my face was terrible. I was all nose! I could even see it when I looked down. The packing was white and stuffed up me, at the end they tied this bow – supposed to be funny?! I don’t think so!

When it all was taken out, I really did think that my brains were being pulled out from my head. The sensation was something I never want to feel again. It still sends a shiver down my spine just talking about it.”