After years of planning the Olympics are finally underway. While it may only be early days in the proceedings, the event hasn’t been entirely without casualties even at this point.
In one shift this week I looked after three ‘victims’ of the Olympic torch….
My first lovely lady was a proud mother patiently standing on the kerb waiting on a bend in the road for her local hero torch-bearing son to run past. Suddenly someone shouted out “its coming” – unfortunately the ensuing surge of people pushed her completely off balance and she fell into the road, landing mostly on her face. Luckily, perhaps, her son didn’t notice at the time, but was informed at the end of his stint by officials. He caught up with his mother soon after when he found her sporting a proper shiner.
My next ‘victim’ (and I do use the term very loosely here) had been enjoying the day of festivities with his good lady wife and young family. As they waited in the crowds for the torch to make its appearance, another man looked at his wife ‘a bit funny’ which prompted our man to punch him in the face. Maybe there is some kind of divine justice though because our man appeared to have come off decidedly worse than the guy with an eye for the ladies. Our chap had fractured two bones in his dominant hand. He would need to take a course of antibiotics to prevent infection because Casanova’s teeth had grazed the skin on his hand very near to the fractures (there’s lots of very nasty infection causing bacteria in the mouth that would wreak havoc if they made their way in to the broken bone or surrounding tissues!)
And finally our last ‘victim’ was a lady who’d fractured a couple of bones in her ankle. She’d managed to fall over in her beautiful 6 inch heels in an attempt to get a better look at the torch as it passed by. Not only had she misjudged the kerb but also she misjudged quite how quickly a bottle of warm white wine can get into your system when you haven’t eaten either breakfast or lunch!