I was exhausted.
And had a sore throat and runny nose and a head full of cold and Shuffling Bob was doing his best to drive me to drink and I was generally just feeling NAFE.
The patient was a pleasant enough young man...who "in drink" last night...somehow sustained a laceration to his forehead.
And who had waited 18 hours before seeking help.
The laceration was wide and deep...through the skin and fat and muscle...in fact down to the periosteum covering the skull...and it was bleeding profusely.
He needed to see a plastic surgeon.
Actually I was the only person at work competent to close the wound and he just needed to see someone other than me...because until I have my corneal transplant I am restricted to one good eye and no 'depth-of-field' vision.
The plastic surgeon was clearly equally exhausted...she had been working since 0800 this morning and had spent most of the day operating.
She was also not an 'English-as-a-first-language' person.
In fact she wasn't even an 'English-as-a-third-language' person!!
And my nasal accent made worse by my cold in the end just defeated the both of us.
"Oy...doctor...listen...did you ever see any of the 'Harry Potter' films?"
"Okay....do you remember the scar Harry Potter had on his forehead?"
"Well...that's what this patient's laceration looks like..."
Ohkay... zank you...pliss to be sending Mr Potter to me...
And in case there is anyone reading this blog who doesnt know what the scar looks like.....