Our Romantic Night Away

Ages ago, when everyone else was drunk and Sinead lost the moon, I won a voucher for a night at the Crowne Plaza in Blanchardstown.  A night away with dinner and breakfast thrown in.  It was so local we all had a good laugh about it and I kinda forgot I had it.  

Then we drove past it last weekend and I saw the Hotel remembered the voucher and thought 'hmmm, a night away for me and Himself' and I booked us in.  For yesterday evening.

#1's Godparents said they'd mind the lads here and we were good to go.  Then got a phone call on Tuesday t to say my mad uncle Bill was coming to stay for ten days.  On Thursday.  ???????????  The Godparents weren't keen on playing house with another adult.  Especially one who lives on whiskey, coffee and cigarettes and never, ever stops talking (family trait I guess) so my brother said he'd look after Bill for the night.  Not that there's much looking after him but you know what I mean.

On Thursday Himself collected Bill and I went off in search of a cake board and ended up in Homebase.  While I was there my ankle was really hurting and I thought 'fuck it, hospital is around the corner I'm going to get it x-rayed'.  Oh, forgot to tell you all, when we were on holidays 3 weeks ago the kids challenged myself and Himself to go on a slide.  A very steep frickin' slide.  Which I did.  I also slammed into the crash barrier at the end of said slide.  Feet first into crash barrier.  I limped off and said 'yeah, great, don't know what the fuss is about' and went and lay in a corner while Himself tried to convince himself to go down it.  He did.  Eventually.  After accruing quite an audience I might add.  So, with two of us shaking like leaves, we went for a wander around the rest of the place we were in and found a welly throwing competition.  In hindsight, I think the crash into the crashbarrier cracked my ankle but the welly throwing really, really broke it.  At the time though I thought it was a bad sprain.  Had a big cry, went to a play and took pain killers with wine.  

That was three weeks ago.  I've more or less kept it strapped up since but it was still aching.  

So, Thursday, I wandered into A&E and was seen nearly immediately . . .  never happens in Beaumont.  Was then sent to the lovely Mike and George, they tested ankle and sent me for an xray - a lot of hopping up and down corridors for someone with a sore foot.  Doh!

Xray done and back to small injuries Mike and George.  I could see my x-ray on the screen (they're all emailed up you know, no more being handed a big sheet of film which you can try, unsuccessfully, to nick and turn into a light shade) and while I was sitting on the chair I could see them.  Two of them.  And a jaggedy one.

My leg was broken in 2 places and fractured in another.  PLASTER BLOODY CAST!!!  TO THE KNEE!!!!!

Drugs made it all very funny.

Less funny the next day when I had to make three cakes.

Even less funny yesterday when I was trying to shower and got the bloody thing soaked.  All over the house are now little plaster of paris footprints.  One every pace or so.

Yesterday.  An hour before we're due to go off on our romantic night away.  With me in a cast.  

Rang the hospital, told them my plight "I'm meant to be going on romantic night away, babysitters organised, uncle organised, wet cast, romantic night???' and I was told to come in right away.  Before all the Saturday afternoon football injuries come in.    

So I did.  I wasn't put through the system because the Receptionist knew.  She knew what it was like to feel it all slipping away.  A night on the tiles drifting into a night at home.  

So did the two lovely nurses who 'pssted' me and had me follow them down a corridor because they felt sorry for me.  

Thanks to those two lovely nurses, the lovely Receptionist and the lovely other 'Small Injuries Replastering' lady I got in and out in TWENTY minutes.  Am dropping a cake into them on Wednesday.  But isn't that cool?

Then it took Himself and hour, yes!  AN HOUR!! to get back to me which meant I had a quiet weep by myself in the sunshine.  Funny how something that didn't hurt hurts very much when it's set at the right bloody angle.

Dropped Bill off.  Then off to the Hotel, which is lovely by the way.  Checked in to find Yolanda, who had sponsored the voucher in the first place, had organised a bottle of wine and fruit platter for us.  Sweet.

Went for a beer.  Went to see Super 8 and limped slowly back to hotel.  

Had dinner and went to bed because the two of us were shattered.  Tried to be all seductive with each other but . . . it's a bit hard when one of you is a hop-a-long and the other is nervous of getting kicked in the head.

. . .  . couldn't sleep. OMG but the itch!!!!!  And the heat.  Tried cutting the cast off with one of those little sewing kit scissors you get in hotels to no avail.  Glared at Himself snoring away.  Ate a banana and four hours later I fell asleep.  Only to be woken up by, er, little Himself.  Persistent little bugger too.  

Himself worked out how NOT to be kicked in the head.

Such a laugh.  Then I had to be wrapped in clingfilm before I could have a shower.  Kinky huh??

So yeah, our night away wasn't quite what I'd planned but it was a giggle.  What more could you want.