Irishbeekeeper

Right lads and ladettes, time to share any of your crazy crazy stories, which you probably have fond memories of or have nightmares about.

Ill start. Was going through some of my old stuff and came across this piece that I wrote a long time ago for redditt. The following is a true story, a name has been changed to safeguard that person, who incidentally is a respected doctor in Ireland, ironic isnt it

Ill start with the fact that the following happened in a non-western country where the rules are very rigid but that day we got lucky that no one caught us.

I am not a doctor nor ever was a medical student but used to be good friends with a lot of guys who were in med school. One of my friends, will call him Bill, was a 3rd year med school student while living in a hostel on campus. They had a proper huge working hospital on campus as well btw. But it wasnt a private one, it was a public one so cheap medicine, low paid staff, not that great hygiene etc etc. This point will become relevant later on.

As someone who used to live with my parents then, I really thought that living in a hostel would be so cool etc etc, so I would sometimes get to spend a night or two with Bill at his hostel. One of these evenings we are just sitting around in his room with a few other of his course mates, smoking up whatever and one of the guy goes, ah sh*t, I have ward duty (or some similar term, I am not a medical guy so I dont know the correct terminology) for the next few hours and Bill says so do I. So they start getting ready for it and I say, I want to go too. To this day I ask myself why did I do that. But you know, early 20s, you think you are indestructible blah blah.

Anyway, Bill's friend says, hey man I need some sleep so why dont you take my doctor's coat and my stethoscope and my ID card (no photo) and just follow Bill around and keep your mouth shut and it would be a breeze. Dont worry, we do it all the time for each other man. I thought yeah sure, I would look so cool in this white doctors coat and will check out all the nurses. He says just make sure to get this attendance card signed by the head of that ward whoever is there then but dont worry it will probably be a 4th year student and all of them are pretty cool so they wont even look twice at who is getting whose card signed.

Anyway, long story short we walk from the hostel to the hospital, me looking proper doctor like (and have already diagnosed Bill as having the incurable disease of Facial Involuntary Rectal Discharge of which there is no cure!!) and guess what...that f**ker's ward duty was Gynae!! Bill just started laughing after seeing my face, he knew all along. This is exactly what the ward looked like I shit you not : http://www.faamcassam.co.in/uploads/gynae_ward.jpg

I should have just turned around and walked out but it was too late, the 4th year on duty had seen us and we had to go up to her. She was NOT cool at all, she was like this ice monster (good looking though) who curtly told us that I am not going to sign anything before you guys put atleast 2 hours of duty here. So Bill just quietly told me to stfu and sit down and keep my head down (one of the few times in my life when I actually did exactly what he told me to do!)

So we are just sitting around and I am making sure to NOT look at anyone when this nurse runs up to the ice queen and says 'doctor, come quick, that woman in the last bed just gave birth!'. Ice queen says what?? why didnt you tell me? Nurse says 'its her 4th birth and they tend to slip out pretty easy by then' (and for all the mothers out there who will contradict this statement please let me tell you that I wholeheartedly agree with you that for some birthing is easy and for some its a pain in the butt, all puns accounted for)

Ice Queen says to me and Bill, right you two, take her to the OP ward, scrub up, we need to do a placenta removal and you two will assist me!!
Needless to point out that by this time I have just gone numb in the face and the nuts and just want a nuke going off on top of that building so I can just die and be vaporized and never be seen again!!
So getting scrubbed and getting into those green slippers and green coats and those white masks on the face is all a haze, honestly, my mind has been blocking the details out over the years ha!

But I do remember Bill looking extremely scared at that point, I mean 'omg what have I done and they will throw me out of college for this if I am caught' type scared you know! So next thing I know I am standing by the head of the patient (mid 30s I would say) and them two are by her unmentionables doing God knows what!! Ice Queen says to me 'why are you standing over there? come here and look please. I am going to perform some stitches and you need to watch this!'

Did I mention that they had already taken out the placenta by then and that was the first time in my life when I had seen something like that and I kept on thinking 'what the hell is this stuff?? was that another baby that didnt make it??' but naturally I cant ask any of these questions as I am supposed to be in 3rd year of med school! I was supposed to be in jail is what I was supposed to be right then!

So the Ice Queen takes out this long curved type needle and starts stitching her up and the woman just screams and I blurt out, she hasn’t been given any local yet Doctor! (how I knew what a local anesthetic is, is a long story but the short version is Bill had explained the difference of general vs local a long time ago to me since I had a small growth in my right toe and we had to have a local done to get it out)

Everyone in the room just stopped what they were doing and stared at me (even the patient stopped screaming), it was like a scene out of this awesome comedy movie! Only this was real life and there was nothing comic about the situation! Sure Bill and I laugh about it now, and I am sure most of you who are reading this would be laughing at me, not with me, but right then it was NOT funny, you know!

So the Ice Queen just turns to her head nurse and says, you DIDN’T give her the local?? And she replies I thought she did (another nurse). A lot of curse words are used, words which one can never imagine coming out of these dainty little nurses and this well versed doctor.

Bill just looked at me and from behind his white mask and through only his eyes he manages to convey these exact words to me, quote “Will you please shut the f**k up and let them do their job and I swear to God I am going to beat the living shit out of you if you even breathe now!!” unquote!
To which I naturally responded only through my eyes “F**k off Billy, I just saved that woman’s va***a!!”

After that its all again a haze but I do remember coming out of the ward and the Ice Queen looking directly in my eyes and saying ‘hmm, not bad’. To this day I think she knew all along!!
Bill and I got our cards signed and got the shnizzle out of there and I vowed to myself to never ever ever ever try anything like that again………so naturally the next day I went with Bill to all of his med classes to see if I could find and hook up with the Ice Queen

p.s. Ice Queen if you can read this, Its been 15 years but I still think you knew and its killing me that I don’t know that you knew or not, you know? So call me or message me or whatever!

Bahtatboy

I think we're going to find it difficult to top that!

shiva

Winner
End thread

Gobobo

Great story! I have one that kind of qualifies.

As a teen I was in the air force cadets and, during a half term holiday, we were to go to a police station to learn about safety, self defence, phonetic alphabet (Alpha Beta Charlie etc). It wasn't as dull as it sounds.

Day two we were talking/learning about road safety which, as a keen cyclist, was important to me. After the few hours ended I got on my bike and rode home. It was about 15 miles but I road 20+ per day so no big deal. After about 6 miles a van passes close to me and the passenger leans out and shouts "**** off, you bloody foreigner!" I'm a Londoner, just like him, and he's got my goat up so I furiously pedal after the van. About a mile and a half later I catch them up at a red light, so I place my front wheel in front of the van and start hurling abuse at them both. They look a bit stunned, but when the light turns green I get going. Their van passes too close for comfort but that's it. I'm still mad and think about reporting them at a police station, but, half way there, I get a grip and so turn back to go home.

I'm bombing it along a dual carriageway, move into the right lane to turn right at the approaching, enormous roundabout that is on a big camber. I always would go as fast as possible when approaching from that direction as it's a steep climb when turning right and I hate holding up the busy traffic (it's a major thoroughfare between towns).

I spot a gap in the traffic and aim for it, probably doing around 35 mph, and get ready to put my right knee out as I lean right over to slingshot around this massive roundabout. But, unbeknownst to me, a woman speeding in her car and coming from my right (so already on the roundabout) clips my back wheel. I and my bike go, separately, flying through the air. As I land I tear my jeans up, and the gravel takes several layers off of my knees, arms, and knuckles. Still got the scars to show for it. I get up, dazed, with blood streaming from my knees and arms, looking for my bike! It's ****ed, bent at a 30 degree angle down the centre. All of the traffic has stopped, dozens of people in their cars, waiting to see if I was alive, no doubt. The woman gets out and helps me drag it off the road, and immediately says "Sorry, I was going too fast" and I reply "Yeah, so was I".

So we have my bike, and me, both broken, but my tyre pump has flown off. This guy gets out of his car and brings it over. The guy is the one and only who was giving us the talk on road safety, several hours and about 15 miles earlier! He says "Maybe we won't see you tomorrow?" and gets back in his car.

The woman took me and my bike home - I was only a couple of miles away, and rather than waiting in A&E for hours I take a shower to wash out the gravel, screaming in agony as I do it.

The next day I turned up a bit late, but took the bus, and on entering got a round of applause from all of my mates and the safety guy who had told them what had happened. Freaky, huh?

Irishbeekeeper

haha no way!

It sure does qualify, for a near death experience! Any story in which one can walk / limp away from a 2 wheel based accident is a life experience in my opinion mate!
Plot twist : Instructor sent the guys in the van and also the woman to make his point, which then he could use the next day! Guy is a genius I tell you!

scrubbedexpat141

Not as impressive, but when I look back now I'd never have done anything so clueless.

My mates and I (4 of us) were at college one day, talking about the upcoming world cup (yes, the 2006 one in Germany, that's gotta make you feel old?). We spent about an hour, using a napkin to draw a map of Europe and decided it was a case of getting off the ferry and turning left to Berlin to get to the fan mile for the final.

The next day I'd booked Dover-Dunkirk ferry, it was about 12 quid each. The four of us loaded up into my mates car (Seat, it wasn't the Ibiza and not the Toledo, but in between. Saloon, about 10-12 years old at least. Crap. Green). WE blasted down to Dover all loving life and thinking it was awesome.

We got on the ferry, having changed up some Euros and all put in to a kitty for petrol and food. This kitty cannot possibly have topped 200 euros. I had scraped together my allowance, my mate had his wages (his car), the other boys had a little bit but not much.

We get off in Dunkirk, we 'turn left' towards Belgium and Holland, managing to not end up just going to Amsterdam. We got past Antwerp and stopped (we'd got a late ferry) before we got into Germany. As we were looking for a suitable service station to sleep at in the tent we'd brought we noticed a bit of a rattle on the car. Within about 5 minutes we realised we'd lost 4th gear. It just wouldn't engage. Panic. But it's OK, we'll be alright.

We stopped at a motorway services and pitched the tent. I then refused to sleep in it because we all stank, so my mate and I slept in the car, other two in the tent.

Wake up, feeling good, we're in Holland, we're living on tubes of pringles and the final is a few days away.

In the car, then the shit hit the fan. Rattle was really loud and it didn't like skipping from 3rd-5th. It was also overheating and we had the fans on hot-as-****ing-possible non stop to try and help. We hit some traffic near the cluster-**** of major cities around Duisburg I think. WE end up seeing a sign for a service station about 2km down the road, so we trundle past the traffic with smoke/steam coming out the bonnet along the hard shoulder. Until a truck sees and slides across to block us. Then stops. Then refuses to move and ignored the impending doom.

Wisely, I get out the front seat and walk up to the cab, climb some of the steps and try to open the door to reason with the German ****. Doors locked and I can see through the window to him just shouting all sorts of ****ing abuse. So I reciprocate and just cling on to the door shouting and ranting. Climb back down, kick his wheel, then he just moved out the way, it worked a treat. We spent about 2 hours at the services trying to get the car to cool down and not let ourselves panic too much.

Rejoined the motorway and a while later it grinds to a halt. A stand-still, not moving, halt. We didn't move for 4 hours. We had the engine off and were in the field next to the main road playing footie with some German Dads.

Attention turned back to the over-heating, rattling car and my mate and I left to look at the 2quid map of Europe we had to work out where we were. As we are looking at this terrible map the guy in the truck next to us, climbs out, walks over and dumps a huge book on the bonnet. Lee, the English trucker was taking the piss out of our god awful map, then explained that the delay was a huge accident and then another big one on the diversion. We asked him to poke the engine, he just said it looked like the gearbox was done but would run on just 4.

Eventually, after 4-5 hours we started moving. We ended up stopping short in a place called Braunschweig. Happily, the car had been getting worse and worse, tensions were rising because we just ate pringles and motorway service station sarnies and we were all looking at the genuine issue of this lads car being a complete scrap.

We rolled, smoke pouring out of the car, in neutral to a stop in a quiet, leafy suburb not far from motorway. Completely by luck, hotel next to us. We walked in, not a bean of English from the elderly couple who ran it, but their son was visiting who spoke perfect English.

Gave us a room on the cheap, clearly felt sorry for us.

Then we went back down, after washing and started asking for help. The son said they knew a guy who owned a garage but we'd only be able to go in a few hours. Fine. Then he said he'd take us into town to where we could get some dinner and watch the 3rd place play-off, after the garage. Then we were telling him about our journey and that we were going to Berlin. He said the train would be 150 euro each, but we could hire a car. I explained I was only just 18 and couldn't abroad could I? He said he knew the guy at Hertz and said it would be fine. So he took my mate and I down there, I got Mum to pay over the phone on her card, picked up a nice new Fiesta and cruised back. Thanking this guy profusely, I didn't realise but he'd actually just signed as a guarantor and named driver. Top bloke.

Then we went to this garage, but we went with the old man. Just my mate and I and this guy who didn't speak English. Neither of us spoke German but directions are pretty universal. Back streets, burned out cars, dodgy flats, dark, imposing. I was shitting bricks. We pull into this shed, light goes on and a ****ing monster of a man is stood at the front. Towered over me, must have been 6'5"+. Next to him, almost invisible was (what I later found out) to be a Portugese / German midget. Proper, with the short arms and legs, not just a short guy. My mate and I just looked at each other wondering what the hell was going on.

An hour or so of pointing and shouting 'KAPUT' and explaining a new part was 500 euros and old was 300 we left, knowing we had to find 500 euros in the next 36 hours. We then went into town, leaving this hell hole of a garage behind and watched Germany play in the 3rd place game, drinking beer we couldn't afford.

Next day, we set off, I rang Dad and asked for help, he transferred the money immediately and it was in my account to pay for the car, huge sigh of relief. We all agreed to pay him back with next bit of money. I drove as fast as humanly possible along the motorway to Berlin. Dumped the car and went and got absolutely platooned. Telling anyone who would listen about what we'd done to get there. I have never felt relief, elation and happiness like it. Yes, we got bailed out by everyone we met but we went through all sorts of ups and downs as mates together, completely clueless and broke.

My mate drove back (he doesn't drink), we got to the hotel about 6am. Slept until 1pm and went downstairs to see the old couple had left us breakfast out, so we sat with other tourists having their lunch whilst we sat bleary eyed eating croissants. The car was outside the hotel, fixed with a new gearbox. We paid them the money for the car (which we didn't know, but they'd already paid not knowing if we could afford it), we paid the hotel, practically kissed their generous feet as we left. Dumped the hire car, got into the green machine and headed for Dunkirk.

Our over-sleeping meant we were going to struggle to make the ferry we had booked, we definitely didn't have money to change it or rebook. We had something like 5 hours to do a 6+ hour drive.

We took it in turns to drive for a couple of hours and swap. We got lost, we went the wrong way, we ended up in Antwerp, not just cruising past etc but somehow we made it.

On the ferry we were all completely broken. Hadn't eaten anything proper in days, had got boozey, had slept terribly, had spent lots of money none of us had.

Get off in Dover, grateful to be on English soil where we suddenly had insurance and breakdown cover again, only to have a forever-long diversion through the countryside because of ****ing roadworks. Got home in the early hours and I slept on the floor at my mates. Drove home the next day and refused, point blank, to leave my room for about 2 days.

It may not be that exciting a story for other people to read / hear but we came away from that wondering what the hell we had just done, how did we manage to make it to Berlin and back with no money (albeit some help from Dad), a shit car and 4 clueless 18 year olds. It was an experience I will never forget and something that I will eternally remember as the single most stupid, but most awesome things I've done.

I wish I had the bollocks to do stuff like that nowadays.

Gobobo

Thanks, Scamp, excellent story! Must have been exhausting, exhilarating and excruciating in equal measures. I just realised why people pull out all the stops to go to massive tournaments; it's the side stories which make the experience so worthwhile, plus the friendly locals. The Little & Large mechanics in the arse end of Braunschweig are a story in themselves, lol.

Irishbeekeeper

bloody ell! now THATs an adventure. I once did a city to city on a crappy bike but that was nothing compared to this doozy! although I DO feel it would have much much more fun (not) if your parents hadnt bailed you out when they did

and yeah I get what you are saying about having the bollocks to do it now, one can only be truly ferocious when in his/her teens or just after and now I am dreading my boys getting into their teens...ha!

scrubbedexpat141

I wish I could make up stories like that, but I'm just too boring now. The people we met at the fan mile didn't believe us and couldn't understand that we kept going, without tickets, just to be there.

I know, it would have been better if we'd robbed a bank or worked a week to pay the bill, but such is. German generosity. It's why I won't speak a bad word about them, that and Berlin is absolutely epic.

If I was 18/19/20 again I'd do loads more shit like this. But I think it falls short of pretending to be a med student and scraping placenta...

shiva

You're still young and kid free whats to stop you now?

scrubbedexpat141

Technically, nothing.

Realistically;
Fear of paying for everything.
Fear of getting stuck somewhere and not being able to get back / pay to get back.
Fear of the unknown.
My inability to go anywhere without having a solid plan in place to stick to (EG: Vietnam, I refused to go until we had everything booked, we didn't have trains booked and I couldn't relax until it was all sorted. Even then it was a nightmare and we didn't get what we wanted. Funny looking back but hated every second of it not being prepared).

Maybe the mrs and I should just get on a flight to Bali / Philippines / Indonesia / Thailand etc and just see what happens. She'd love it but I'd just worry.

shiva

I get it but to be honestly the best thing you could do is just get on a plane and **** off for a couple of weeks without a plan. You're not an idiot so why worry about spending all your money, somewhere like Thailand is so flipping cheap you'd be pushed to anyway.
Get on a plane and fight your desire to always have a plan.
I'm the same but the Mrs is happy to wing it so i am far better than I was. It's ironic as I spend half my work life winging it but don't like to on holidays so much

flares

Like your impulsiveness Scampy but 'next day' is so amatuer.

1997 at Brighton race one glorious May afternoon with a mate. Had a few jars and were both up. Decided to go to Paris there and then to watch the tennis. Had to phone the girlfriend (my now wife) from Newhaven to say I wasn't coming back for tea and take a quicky day off work.

Got the overnight ferry to Dieppe. My mate carried on drinking whilst I tried to get some kip. Banged down the autoroute - arrived at Bois de Bologne/Roland Garros at 6am. Go and buy tickets only to be told you can't pay on the day. Eventually get in thanks to some French/Algerian touts. Both sleep on the outside courts whilst crappy doubles going on. Get into centre court later in the afternoon to watch Pioline/Kafelnikov. Rolled into Pigalle and got on it again. Needless to say the wife never took the Roland Garros tee I got her out of the wrapper.

Wow that does sound pretty middle class. Also honorable mentions to getting gored by a bull on my stag, getting my car stuck on fistral beach at a beach party - finally managed to move it at 5am (visions of all the northern holiday makers pitching their windbreakers around a 1972 Corolla), bumping in to a banker ex schoolmate on the Osaka tube during WC2002 and seeing the sights and sounds of corporate Japan. tube train bars n all.

scrubbedexpat141

You're so right, she has made me better - I guess more like I used to be but I'm a natural born worrier / planner / organiser.

Still, maybe it's a plan for next year.

That is all awesome, even though it's tennis.

Where the hell was your stag? Pamplona?

Irishbeekeeper

go on then...!!