First Tattoo and First Attempt at Shoplifting

Cherry

By Bee

Wed, 23 Mar 2016
  • 12739 reads
22 comments
 

A strange set up - a room with a fish tank but no human receptionist. When I arrived the first time, there was just me, so after looking around and quietly noticing that each chair was empty, I sat down in one of them. The fish looked at me like this - 0000 000 0 for a couple of minutes, and then a radiographer came in and explained why I couldn't have my planning appointment that day on account of my scar not being properly healed - (had to have another op). 'I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey,' she smiled, 'how long did it take you to get here?... Um, that is quite a while. Definitely a wasted journey.'  But today there were quite a few seats taken, and a couple of patients were actually still awake in them. Apparently you just sit there and wait till someone comes in and asks you if your name is Michael Smith and you say no, and they say, 'Anyone?' And the guy next to you just remembers that's his name and then you wait again till someone comes back in and asks the next guy, 'Deborah Hambrook?' And he says, 'No, Max Sumitorover.' And just before they walk out, you say, 'Oh, that's me...' They scrutinize your face to see if you are telling the truth, then frown, 'Max?' And you tell them who you are. 



Any road up, today, I was taken from the waiting room by a man with the voice, manner and charisma of Alistair Appleton - had to keep checking, but each time I looked again, it still wasn't him. I like Alistair, so that improved my mood somewhat. He talked me through what I've already been talked through, but I listened again, partly because he sounded so much like Alistair, and partly in case I'd missed something the first 60 million times around. But I hadn't. Lung damage, cardiovascular disease, skin reactions / damage, and my most dreaded lymphoma, to name but a few. So when he thought I looked scared enough, Alistair led me back to the waiting area where I was soon called for my scan. 



I've never had a tattoo before and weirdly, the trainee nurse who did mine had never done one before, either. Now neither of us can make that claim again. The purpose of the small ink dots is so they can line you up correctly for radiotherapy. So I've had my CT scan and won't know the results until I turn up for my first of fifteen radiotherapy sessions starting 11th April - five days a week for three weeks. 



I came away from the hospital feeling quite depressed, for some reason. But it was such a lovely sunny day I thought I'd walk my dog to Tesco (hide her behind the bags of compost) to pick up something nice for a salad. Once out of the shop I realized my backpack was too heavy for me to lift onto my back, so leaving my shopping with the dog, I ran back inside for a carrier to unload some of the weight from my back pack. I'd taken a few of the heavier items out to put into the carrier when the security guard came flying out of the shop. 'Excuse me, I'm really sorry,' he shouted, 'but those bags are 5p now. You took it without paying.' To which I promptly burst into tears and offered him 5p, which he wouldn't take into the shop for me because he's not allowed to take money. So I asked if he could watch my shopping and the dog, and he said he would, and then I dashed (like a nutter) into the shop, stood looking this way and that with my 5p piece held aloft pincered between thumb and forefinger, but there was no till without a huge queue. I didn't know what to do, so in the end I rushed up to this young guy who I knew would recognize me and said I was sorry, but I'd taken a carrier without paying, could he put 5p in his till, and I don't know if he was supposed to, but he said he would. 



The security guard was as good as his word - stood by shopping and dog, and let me off my first attempt at shoplifting with a slapped wrist. To be honest, today has been the pits, and the failed shoplifting incident put the cherry on a badly iced cake. 

 

Certificate 15
Story
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

I'm always amazed that your humour shines out like a beacon throughout, and beyond, all your trials and tribulations. So well written as always.

Do take care and I hope scan results are good and that the radio therapy goes well.

Lindy

Submitted by Bee on

Thanks Lindy. I think the scan is just to make sure you get zapped in all the right places. 

Bee

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Tesco's security people are arseholes, nasty effing arseholes. I speak from ridiculous experience!

Edx

PS, I also can't understand why you would need to wait for your scan results. NHS rools-r-crap

 

Submitted by Bee on

Thanks Ed. I could have done with you yesterday.

x

Bee

Submitted by Ed Crane on

I guess that goes for NHS managment as well as the Tesco f***kheads.

Wouldn't have been much good to you yesterday, things were pretty hectic here.

 

Submitted by Bee on

Sorry to hear that, Ed. But it's the thought that counts, so thank you for yours.

x

Bee

Submitted by Ed Crane on

but of course you want to follow the events. I know Zaventem airport very well, I must have been there a hundred times, really wierd to see a place you know so well so banged up. I also used the Metro station it's the one I used to get to the British Embassy and consulate when I had to renew my passports (done on-line now though)

The Belgians are a pretty tough bunch, I am sure they will get on with things.

(one day I'll tell you the story of my wife's run-in with the Tesco security twats, not unlike yours in their lack of understanding for stressful situations)

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Bee,

I have to say I felt for you, having days like the one you describe really mucks around with your system and leaves you feeling like you just want to curl up. Nothing today is made easy, when all you want is the quiet life yet we have to face another day of trials. Yet you still manage to bring some humour into describing your day from hell.

I too wish you luck and hope the radio therapy goes well.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Bee on

You're right, Jenny, days like that throw you right out, 

Thank you. 

Bee

Submitted by VeraClark on

What a day. A shitty one. I'm sorry. I used to give my eldest son a banana on the trip round and forget to pay because it becomes an insignificant yellow starfish on the trolley bottom once unpeeled. Back I'd run. Not to promote theft but would have been less hassle to go straight home rather than deal with their irritable little faces when I'd re-queue most weeks and press a skiddy wet banana skin in to their reluctant hands to scan and bin.

 

Submitted by Bee on

I know what you mean, Vera. I once hung a bag of spuds on my pushchair handle and only noticed once out of the shop. Then when I went back in to pay, they treated me like I was trying to get away with something. Loved your banana description. 

Bee

Submitted by jeand on

HI Bee

Horrible for you but the story of the stolen bag was fun for us to read. You are having a time of it, aren't you. You just finish one trauma and you have to take on another one. I am  still all keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by Bee on

Thank you, Jean. That's as always, very much appreciated. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Dear Bee...every one's a winner, that's for suresmiley  

And I ditto all the above, with knobs on.

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

Hi Tina. Thank you. 

Bee

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

When I saw the title I imagined you might have suddenly decided to come over all flamboyant - you know - a big fancy tat, followed by some exciting edge of the seat shoplifting - perhaps Harrods - just to see what it was like...probably best wait until you're a little more recovered before you try anything like that... Anyway, well done for the light touch of dry humour in the waiting room description - and never mind about Tesco - they are going down the plughole. I bet the security guard was just excited as most people are shoplifting at Aldi or Lidl nowadays.

I hope today is a much much nicer one for you!

 

Submitted by celticman on

Don't worry, you'd only have got community service for nicking a carrier bag. Court cost £20 000, carrier bag 5p. Compassion - zero. It doesn't add up. 

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

Picture Credit: http://tinyurl.com/j9hr2cn

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Sorry you've got all that coming up now, Bee. Is it far to travel each time? The waiting room scene was vivid. It's so easy to get into a daze and not hear them when they pop in and say your name isn't it?
love and prayers, Rhiannon

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

So sorry for your crap day, Deborah. I thought you were getting a real-deal tattoo as well. My wife and I have been talking about doing it. Maybe if you got something along the lines of 'Back Off, Bitch!' scrawled on your foreman, you'd ward off anyone thinking about messin' with your bad self. Just a thought, Deborah. Always in my heart and mind, good woman.

Cheers,

Rich xx

 

Submitted by MJG on

those small frustrations (names, plastic bags, supermarkets in general) which become mountainous when there are such massive life-changing traumas to deal with. It's well-written Bee.

 

Submitted by Christine on

Think of the newspaper headline Tesco Cops Cancer Patient   Think of all the things Tesco could do with that 5P.

 

Hello Bee.  It is Christine here, back from wherever I was (a darkened room with a laptop).  You may remember I wrote B is for Breast Cancer here some time back and it was published as a book in 2014 by Little Brown, Piatkus. 

I have just become aware of this blog and started reading today.  This is my first read.  It is really good and 'real' - it brings it all back to me.  I am going to try and find time to read more of this.  Part of the reason I took a break from abctales is because it is addictive and I could get nothing done becuase I was reading people's stories all the time!

We are in exam mode at work not but I am going to read more on here.  Well done.  Christine