On wednesdays after work, we would play 5-a-side football in the London hospital's (where we worked) sport centre. 5pm - 6pm and then straight to the hospital's sports and social bar to replenish lost fluids with pints and pints of water and maybe a packet of crisps.

Well, that was what we normally did. For some reason this particular week, we replenished those lost fluids with a few pints of lager each. Of course the first 2 or 3 pints went very quick as we were gasping. The next 5 or 6 were drunk at a more reasonable rate.

After deciding that it was probably better if we left to eat something we ended up visiting the Med School Bar (the hospital was a "teaching" hospital so had a subsidised bar for the med students) and ended up staying there till closing time drinking more pints of the cheap beer at a much more reasonable price. (I even remember mine-sweeping once or twice and finding a bitten-off finger nail at the bottom of one of the pint of stolen bitter - that'll learn me)

Anyway, the 4 of us who lasted the evening headed back to our hospital accommodation, picking up a much-needed Chinese on the way home. We all ended up in my flat drunkenly scoffing our chinese food and watching some godawful crap that the BBC used to offer in the early hours (think repeated program with a little "signing-for-the-deaf" woman in the corner waving her arms about)

I naturally fell asleep on my sofa and woke up to find my colleagues had sensibly departed to their own shit-holes leaving me and the little deaf-helper on the telly alone.

It was then that I felt the Chinese trying to make a reappearance. After a gurlge in the stomach and a funny feeling behind my adams apple, I realised what was about to hapen and rushed to the bathroom.

Now the corridor in this flat wasn't huge but I thought I would make it from the lounge to the bathroom. I was wrong.

Like so many other vomitters posting here, the hand over the mouth technique didn't do what was expected but instead squirted the "beer/rice" vomit ahead of me. As soon as I then stepped in the landed puke, I slipped. My foot went ahead of me at great speed causing me to fall essentially backwards. Gashing my elbow open badly on the radiator on the way down and hitting my head hard on the floor as I landed was bad enough, I really didnt want to carry on covering myself in sick. But I did.

I slept there for some time. No idea how long but when I got up (using the wall for assistance) my head was still throbbing from the fall and my elbow hadn;t really stopped bleeding. I eventually managed to find dustpan and used it to scoop up the liquid rice puke that was covering the corridor floor. I did a pretty good job in my state. The next day I took myself off to the A&E in the hospital (gave me a good excuse to be a few hours late for work) for them to check out my elbow, as it still hadnt healed up.

Fast forward a couple of months to when my Mum was back in the country (from the Middle East where she had been living for a year) and needed somewhere to stay. So she stayed with me for a few days. Whilst I was at work, she offered to clean the flat for me. Naturally I thought it was a great idea.

I got home that first day and over dinner at the local pub she asked me 2 questions that had been bothering her that day:
Why was there a what looked like blood stain on the wall next to the radiator and why was there some rice stuck to the wall?

I told her. She wasn't as impressed at the story as my work-mates.
(FUXTIX Not my words, Carol, Fri 8 Jan 2010, 9:52, Reply)