h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

An odd morning, this morning.

It started last night, of course: quite a lot of odd mornings do. The Sunday Pump Social Club went to see the Canberra Street Theatre production of *Emma* (not the Jane Austen story, but a play about one woman's life experience, before and after her emigration to Australia). The play was excellent, with some great piano accordion and accompanying choral music, and excellent singing by the choir assembled for the production - of whom one of the Sunday Pump Social Club was a member.

Also at the play, surprisingly to me, was a very beautiful young woman who was with us, and whose name I only found out as she came in, although I have known her for a year or more through the gym. She challenged me not to forget her name, having learned it! I will do my best, although Sophie is not the sort of woman one wishes to know without her name, as the sum is even more beautiful than the parts alone. She's gorgeous, and it's hard to dissuade myself from falling in love with her, even though such mindless infatuation is madness!

So, keeping my emotions in check, I conversed with everyone in our party, enjoyed a good pasta and salad meal which was included in our ticket price and had a wonderful night all round. I set off to walk home once the party had dispersed. It's about four kilometres from the Street Theatre to my place, and I'd walked in to the theatre that evening. I was fairly confident I could follow the bike path home, even in the wooly, reflective prevailing overcast which pervaded the sky. Unfortunately, I got sidetracked at O'Connor, where I was hoping to have a quick sup at one of the cafés. The cafés were closed when I got there, however, and I began to continue on my way through O'Connor towards home. I only made it about two hundred metres more towards Dickson, however, before I collapsed on the side of the road, performed a blood test, and passed out.

Apparently a patrolling police contingent discovered me - a good thing too, as my wallet was full of cash (rent money, Health Care Fund rebates) when they went through it to try and find out who I was. The officer in charge apparently recognised the significance of my blood testing machine - which would still have been on the ground beside me when they arrived - and called the ambulance. I came to in the back of the ambulance during a subdued ride to hospital. Judging by the condition of my clothes (grass stains) I'd been struggling a bit beforehand, which probably explained the grimness of the ambos. I remember a distinct impression of (I think) being an elemental part of the Scottish highlands, at the level of the dirt itself but intricately involved in the clan structure and associated social strata. I suspect it was something to do with which clan I was being attributed to that had caused me to struggle. It was only a fragment of a warped imagining, constructed from chance words which my half-conscious mind had overheard, seized upon and amplified - also confusing them with earlier ideas - as I came round, but it was pretty disconcerting for a moment.

I was taken to Calvary Hospital, and after an hour or so attended by the lovely Nina (the on- call doctor in Casualty - and she was truly lovely, incidentally, especially as she perched on the side of my bed as she interviewed me about what had happened that night, her weight pressing against me...*ooh la la!*), who said that - as I'd been fed and tested sufficiently to allow the hospital to be sure I'd recovered - I was free to go. I left the ward, mainly to free up bed space in Casualty, fixed up my bag - which was still in the mess the police and ambos had left while trying to establish who I was and what I carried with me - and walked home (about eight kilometres this time). I hate catching cabs if I can avoid doing so.

I left the hospital at about 3.30am. I arrived home at about 5.00am. I had a cup of coffee while I waited for McDonalds to open at 6.00am (hotcake breakfast! Yippee!). I am in McDonalds still, at 7.00am or so, as I write this. It's been a long night...

You DO know it's Monday, right?

How many fingers am I holding up...? Good.

I'm glad you're all right. That all sounds very scary - though not the Sophie and Nina interludes - and I hope you got plenty of rest eventually.

Now, I just have to get out of my mind the picture I have of what a 'Sunday Pump Social Club' might entail .

It's not nearly as exciting as that, I'm afraid!

"Sunday Pump" refers to the practice of Les Mills BodyPump on Sunday - it's another gym thing. Eventually, the people who do it on Sunday got so accustomed to going out afterwards that it was made into a full unit of sociability. I think they prefer to refer to themselves as the 'SPSC' for evident reasons...

I had a feeling you might ask about that, bubster...!

Deep down I think I knew all that, I was just giving you a chance to interpret for our international audience...

My turn!

*also is glad Hypoman is all right*

Is Casualty the name of a hospital or just a ward? Either way, isn't it rather a grim name for a whatever-it-is?

Well, ER have the copyright on 'Emergency Room', so we got stuck with 'Casualty'. Could have been worse. They could have taken him to 'Victim' or 'Collateral Damage'.

Or "Scratched and Dented," I suppose.

Thank you for splainin.