Lock n' Load
27th Jul 2007, 19:23
I wasn't going to post this here, but a certain Mr Jerricho begged me to. Down oh his knees, offering sexual favours and the use of his favourite sheep (how did you smuggle Flossy into Canada) and even several beers, he pleaded with me to post this message which I'd previously sent him and a few select others as an email. The upshot of this is that after 12 years I'm leaving ATC to be with my wife of 8 months in the land of toques and poutine. And here is how I got out of doing my last 16 rostered shifts. In all honesty, I would rather have done the damn shifts!
Before I cut and paste the good bit, a quick word on employers. NATS has gone downhill so far and so fast, and can only retain it's good reputation thanks to good controllers going far beyond the effort the company deserves. People, don't be taken advantage of! Serco in the Middle East is a commercial enterprise but, to coin a cliche, it does what it says on the tin. I have had more fun working for Serco in Dubai than anywhere else. The local bosses genuinely want to be able to get that big pay rise for the staff, so keep your fingers crossed guys. I now know from experience that Serco ME is great when you're ill or suffer an accident, and that counts for a lot.
Okay, enough preamble. Now the amble!!!
How not to buy a burger at a Dubai gas station with McDonalds attached.... Walk fast as soon as the car door is open, don't notice the concrete blocks at sidewalk height, but set a couple of feet out from the sidewalk at the front of eack parking stall. Trip on the concrete block. See gas station doors, sliding glass variety, closing just as you're almost through them horizontally. Despite the impossibility of regaining your footing and balance, try anyway by thrusting your free foot forward and down. Overcook it a little, and as your foot touches down, feel an increase in your forward, horizontal velocity, combined with a snapping feeling from deep within your hip. Rotate in midair, to land horizontally in the entrance to the store.
The next step is simple since it mainly involves not moving while people mill around and find out why some white guy has just flown through the doors and is now on his back. During this stage, consider getting up on the grounds that it's obvious you can't have done more than maybe dislocate something. Try to move. Revise previous assumption to include the knowledge that any movement of your left leg is beyond any pain you've even imagined. As the glass door closes and merely rubs against your shoe, scream like a little girl. You're going to need the practice for when the ambulance shows up.
Watch as the gas station and McDonalds staff scratch their heads when asked the simple question, "what is the address here?" Watch as they scratch some more when asked, "what street is this?" Listen to the nice Lebonese lady patiently explaining to ambulance dispatch that we're in Al Barsha, near the Mall of the Emirates, at the brand-new gas station on the road that goes from Al Barsha to the Palm Jumeirah. Thank Lebonese lady and her husband for their kindness, getting stuff out of your car and insisting on waiting with you until the ambulance is there. Be glad they aren't part of the crowd watching the next step.
Ambulance arrives and Lebonese couple head off. After ten minutes of scratching their heads (this comes up a lot), the ambulance crew come up with a plan to lift you onto the gurney. No problem, right? Wrong. Any movement of your left leg will have you screaming in a disembodied, "that can't be me", kind of a way. After the second attempt and similar scream ("okay, so it's me"), tell them to back off but leave the gurney. Hold onto its far edge and shuffle yourself onto it slowly, at the limits of acceptable pain. Adjust definition of acceptable pain during this phase, on account of otherwise you'd still be at the gas station 4 days later.
Argue with ambulance guys about which hospital to go to, pointing out that you don't really care about the 300 dirham charge for a non-governent hospital. There is only one government hospital they'd take you to anyway, and it's a lot farther away than most private ones. Do not ask if they take visa for the ambulance ride, as you can then enjoy the spectacle of the ambulance crew doggedly following you around your chosen hospital, the Neuro-Spinal, including waiting with you for your CT scan results, until someone ponies up the 300 dirhams in cash.
During the transfer from ambulance to hospital, do all you can to gain a reputation as an uncooperative patient. All you really have to do is scream "STOP BLOODY PUSHING ME!!!!" when staff try to get you from ambulance gurney to hospital bed. They will eventually learn that "Mr L n' L has strong arms and can move himself." This will be reinforced by the move from bed to CT scanner and back to bed. Find out at this stage that your pelvis is fractured and that Dr Anoosh will see you in the morning about your treatment. In the meantime, enjoy some light traction.
When the eminent Dr Anoosh finally shows up about 7 hours later than you expected, you won't learn much more except that the following morning, you will have a pin in your tibia as a base for more traction than your skin alone can take. Oh joy.
Wake up on second morning to get wheeled into the OR, after a truly horrible sponge bath experience of course. Watch as sedative is injected. Wake up again to find that some b*stard has put a handlebar through your tibia. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to freak out about it when they first attach the rope to the bar, and hang some weights off the far end...
On the third morning, get wheeled to X-ray for a fresh look, and finally get some good news from Dr Anoosh. True to form, he'll keep you waiting, but when he does deign to see you it's to say that you can expect release on crutches in 2 weeks, and maybe unsupported walking after 4 to 6 weeks. Compare that with timescale posited by your wife who believes the interweb, and who thrives on a bit of drama and the worst-case scenario. Decide you prefer Dr Anush's timescale.
So THAT's how to get out of your last few shifts. I never did get that Big Mac. :ugh:
Before I cut and paste the good bit, a quick word on employers. NATS has gone downhill so far and so fast, and can only retain it's good reputation thanks to good controllers going far beyond the effort the company deserves. People, don't be taken advantage of! Serco in the Middle East is a commercial enterprise but, to coin a cliche, it does what it says on the tin. I have had more fun working for Serco in Dubai than anywhere else. The local bosses genuinely want to be able to get that big pay rise for the staff, so keep your fingers crossed guys. I now know from experience that Serco ME is great when you're ill or suffer an accident, and that counts for a lot.
Okay, enough preamble. Now the amble!!!
How not to buy a burger at a Dubai gas station with McDonalds attached.... Walk fast as soon as the car door is open, don't notice the concrete blocks at sidewalk height, but set a couple of feet out from the sidewalk at the front of eack parking stall. Trip on the concrete block. See gas station doors, sliding glass variety, closing just as you're almost through them horizontally. Despite the impossibility of regaining your footing and balance, try anyway by thrusting your free foot forward and down. Overcook it a little, and as your foot touches down, feel an increase in your forward, horizontal velocity, combined with a snapping feeling from deep within your hip. Rotate in midair, to land horizontally in the entrance to the store.
The next step is simple since it mainly involves not moving while people mill around and find out why some white guy has just flown through the doors and is now on his back. During this stage, consider getting up on the grounds that it's obvious you can't have done more than maybe dislocate something. Try to move. Revise previous assumption to include the knowledge that any movement of your left leg is beyond any pain you've even imagined. As the glass door closes and merely rubs against your shoe, scream like a little girl. You're going to need the practice for when the ambulance shows up.
Watch as the gas station and McDonalds staff scratch their heads when asked the simple question, "what is the address here?" Watch as they scratch some more when asked, "what street is this?" Listen to the nice Lebonese lady patiently explaining to ambulance dispatch that we're in Al Barsha, near the Mall of the Emirates, at the brand-new gas station on the road that goes from Al Barsha to the Palm Jumeirah. Thank Lebonese lady and her husband for their kindness, getting stuff out of your car and insisting on waiting with you until the ambulance is there. Be glad they aren't part of the crowd watching the next step.
Ambulance arrives and Lebonese couple head off. After ten minutes of scratching their heads (this comes up a lot), the ambulance crew come up with a plan to lift you onto the gurney. No problem, right? Wrong. Any movement of your left leg will have you screaming in a disembodied, "that can't be me", kind of a way. After the second attempt and similar scream ("okay, so it's me"), tell them to back off but leave the gurney. Hold onto its far edge and shuffle yourself onto it slowly, at the limits of acceptable pain. Adjust definition of acceptable pain during this phase, on account of otherwise you'd still be at the gas station 4 days later.
Argue with ambulance guys about which hospital to go to, pointing out that you don't really care about the 300 dirham charge for a non-governent hospital. There is only one government hospital they'd take you to anyway, and it's a lot farther away than most private ones. Do not ask if they take visa for the ambulance ride, as you can then enjoy the spectacle of the ambulance crew doggedly following you around your chosen hospital, the Neuro-Spinal, including waiting with you for your CT scan results, until someone ponies up the 300 dirhams in cash.
During the transfer from ambulance to hospital, do all you can to gain a reputation as an uncooperative patient. All you really have to do is scream "STOP BLOODY PUSHING ME!!!!" when staff try to get you from ambulance gurney to hospital bed. They will eventually learn that "Mr L n' L has strong arms and can move himself." This will be reinforced by the move from bed to CT scanner and back to bed. Find out at this stage that your pelvis is fractured and that Dr Anoosh will see you in the morning about your treatment. In the meantime, enjoy some light traction.
When the eminent Dr Anoosh finally shows up about 7 hours later than you expected, you won't learn much more except that the following morning, you will have a pin in your tibia as a base for more traction than your skin alone can take. Oh joy.
Wake up on second morning to get wheeled into the OR, after a truly horrible sponge bath experience of course. Watch as sedative is injected. Wake up again to find that some b*stard has put a handlebar through your tibia. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to freak out about it when they first attach the rope to the bar, and hang some weights off the far end...
On the third morning, get wheeled to X-ray for a fresh look, and finally get some good news from Dr Anoosh. True to form, he'll keep you waiting, but when he does deign to see you it's to say that you can expect release on crutches in 2 weeks, and maybe unsupported walking after 4 to 6 weeks. Compare that with timescale posited by your wife who believes the interweb, and who thrives on a bit of drama and the worst-case scenario. Decide you prefer Dr Anush's timescale.
So THAT's how to get out of your last few shifts. I never did get that Big Mac. :ugh: