Not the heading I thought I would be putting after date 7 but here we are!!! Date number seven ended 36 hours ago and I’m writing this from a hospital bed. By the time I am able to post this piece you will have probably been wondering where I disappeared to again. I’m still here just a little bit more fragile than I was a couple of weeks ago.
When mystery chap suggested ice skating for date number seven I was super excited and internally having a panic attack at the same time, I’m certainly not cute or cool enough to pull ice skating off, nor did I have any idea to what to wear. Now ice skating is a firm favourite in the world of the romantic comedies, the couple’s dress super cute, they amazingly already know how to skate and if they fall the other is there to kiss the pain away. However in reality picking an outfit is a logistical nightmare, your brain isn’t already hardwired with the knowledge of what to do once you step onto ice, although kissing definitely takes the pain away, for a while at least.
Now thanks to my dad I live with the absurd knowledge that I can do anything I set my little heart too, despite previous experience or common sense. So despite already being armed with the deep-rooted knowledge that I have absolutely no coordination and the ability to fall over whilst stood still on flat land, I still decided to go, partly because I was convinced I could ice skate and partly because I was sure I could impress mystery chap. The whole date was amazing starting with a walk along the canel to his local pub for a quick drink, lots of laughing and some cheeky kissing before heading off to the scene of the accident. Now I don’t actually remember the accident, I remember skating happily on my own, not well, but upright! Next thing I remember was being off the ice sat at the side of the ring with mystery chap to my right and a first aider to my left. The pain was absolutely unreal and I had some real problems with my sight, however I somehow managed to convince them I was alright, mainly because I was on a date and didn’t want it to end so soon. We carried on skating for another hour ( with me only falling again once, after which he didn’t let me go ). We followed skating with dinner, laughing, talking and lots more kissing, and if it wasn’t for me falling it would have been the most magical of dates.
Fast forward 24 hours and by the next evening I couldn’t lift my arms above chest height, so my friends marched my sore butt to A&E . I absolutely thought I was wasting their time, expecting them to tell me to go home and take a couple of ibuprofen. However within 30 minutes of walking through the door I was strapped down and going for a CT scan, another 30 minutes later I was being told I had a fractured skull and would have to be admitted.
Turns out I really CAN’T ice skate!!!
I had to be admitted for 48 hours to be checked for any further damage or issues, which included being woken every two hours to have a torch shone in my eyes. And if the actual date wasn’t cute enough, mystery chap turned up one afternoon to surprise me with some goodies. Again would have been chick flick cute if my whole family hadn’t decided to visit at actually the same time and I didn’t look like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards, several times. However it was incredibly cute and made me like him so much more, luckily me looking like a homeless person hasn’t scared him off because date eight has been arranged.
I can’t tell you enough just how incredible all the NHS staff were to me, every single member of staff were absolutely wonderful and without their practice and care I couldn’t have got through it.