Cash was increasingly hard to come by and nights out on the piss were few and far between, so when I was offered the job as porter in the local hospital I jumped at it. I was sure I could while away the hours lying on a stretcher listening to my ipod, in between chatting up the nurses that is. Reality was quite different however. I was rushed off my feet. I had neglected to factor into my equation that the Irish health service is fundamentally stretched to the limit, and it's the lowest ranking employees who carry the greatest load. I ended up sprinting around the hospital, I was every bodies go for. Yes doctor, no doctor, three bags f@*king full doctor. The final straw came when I was asked by the matron to go around the wards late one night and empty all the bedpans. Reluctantly I set off, bucket in hand. I came to a bed where a family sat around their frail parent. As I crawled under the bed to empty the contents of the pan into my bucket, one of the blokes said, "Are you thinking of making a career out of that". I quickly reversed out from under the bed leaving the bucket and bedpan in my wake. Silvio's greatest moments of clarity usually occur in close proximity to crap. Strange that. Never did find out who emptied that pan either.
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