Medical memories and mistaken identities
19th July, 2007
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A web surfer wrote in an e-mail recently that her doctor husband had tended to me in an emergency ward a number of years ago. I recalled the incident. I'd been bitten by a dog. It was an Alsatian and was the second time I'd been bitten by a member of that breed. No other breed has ever attacked me and I remain at a loss as to why the Alsatians of the world have taken such a set against me.
I'm presuming it was the Alsatian attack to which my correspondent referred. It could also have been that time I fell over on the front porch one dark and stormy night and split my forehead open, and staggered into the emergency centre at Royal Brisbane Hospital bleeding all over the lino. Maybe it was the time my left lung collapsed and I again presented at the RBH. Then there was that time a table collapsed beneath me at a party and I landed on broken glass. No, it couldn't have been that time. I recall that I went to the Princess Alexandra Hospital to get my stitches on that occasion. In any case, I e-mailed back and thanked the doctor for his ministrations all those years ago. E-mails have become the link of instant communication between blogger and reader, which can be a good and a bad thing in that they easily allow all those perspicacious people to tell you how wonderful you are - and all those blinded by stupidity and poisoned by their own bile to tell you what an idiot you are. Some e-mails are from people who have met you in the past, way back in your childhood in some instances, and others from those who think but are not certain that they might have made your acquaintance, such as this missive that arrived last week. It read: "Have been reading your blog for a while ... blah blah ... and have been wondering for an equal amount of time if you were the occupant of the unit next to us (three University of Queensland female final-year students) in Maryvale Street, Toowong? The bit that intrigues me was when the girl who lived in our other adjoining unit was attacked early one a.m., the police were quick to think that they had solved the crime when the person that we think was you was found wandering around his unit, naked (thereby matching the given description), after all the ensuing kerfuffle. "The victim had fired a shotgun into the wall of the unit, which was my shared wall and where I was asleep and didn't hear the 12-gauge shot. The police were everywhere for days after and the newspaper covered the whole thing. "The attacker got away with a pair of my flatmate's knickers on his head!! And in the interim, the police thought that they had an early arrest. Does this ring any bells? Was this you? Your reply will solve a few giggles we've had over the years and hopefully not rekindle any bad memories for you (if you were the first suspect)." I have thanked the author for her interest and pointed out that as far as I can recall, I have never been apprehended while in a state of undress by any members of Queensland's finest. I'm sure I'd remember. Several times while in a condition of minor insobriety, I will concede, but never naked. I also said that while I could never condone violence of any sort, I did admire the alleged attacker's style in escaping with a pair of knickers over his head, presumably to avoid detection. Obviously, in running through the streets of Toowong thus attired he would have blended right in with the locals. I've lived there for the past three years and have not yet encountered a single naked person wearing knicker headgear, but then I haven't really been looking out for them. Still, it's nice to know that there is that section of the readership which, when considering midnight marauders dashing through the streets of Toowong wearing nought but a pair of smalls draped over their heads, all the while hotly pursued by members of the Queensland Police Service, immediately thinks of me. |
