My friend Tony and I was returning from a party late into the night on his Suzuki 250 motorcycle when he misjudged the angle of a bend tight left and hit a three foot high wall of cemetery at nearly 50 mph. I remember using the back of Tony as a ramp I fly in the air, and made a complete somersault before landing hard face down in the patch of nettles. I pulled myself together and realized that I agreed - winded and with multiple bites on the face, but otherwise fine. Tony was lying on his back on the other side of the wall next to the road, his face a mess of blood and the whole front of his torn body of an unpleasant encounter with the wall that I had flew over. Something had torn a hole in the left cheek and as he was breathing, blood bubbling out of it in considerable quantity. He was bleeding badly from several cuts and abrasions and I really think he could die. Then he spoke.
"The man who was bad ... How's the bike?" I looked down the road. The bike was on its side straddling the white line in pieces. "It does not look too bad ..." I lied, not wanting to add to his injury.
I began to wonder what we would do. We were miles from anywhere in rural England and there was nobody around. Then a Ford Transit appeared in the other direction and stopped right next to us, the windows down. "Need help?" The pilot asked, knowing the answer.
We pushed the bike off the road, threw Tony in the back of the truck and I climbed carefully into the front passenger seat. The driver brought the young woman who slips on the center of the front seat. "This is my wife Angie," he said. "She's a nurse ..." I could not believe it. Of all the people who could appear at this time, we got lucky with a nurse. She said "Hi" and jumped into the back and started cleaning the Tony as she could.
At the hospital, they placed us in the accident and emergency department and began checking us more. Tony looked terrible, but they cleaned it emerged that the worst injury he had suffered was the hole in his cheek. The rest was just reduced, scrapes and bruises.
Suddenly a stern voice disturbing the peace. "Right M. Chapman, the smell of you is a waste of time, but I want you to take a deep breath and blow into this bag until I tell you to stop. To erase? "We looked behind us to see a standing police sergeant with the breathalyzer feared in his hand.
Tony looked at me in despair, nodded, and sat up on his elbows. He took a deep breath, put the tube in his mouth and blew as hard as he could. Immediately, the stitches in his cheek and burst of blood gurgled out and ran down his face. at this time the sister duty appeared.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!?!" asked her, sounding like a schoolmaster. "I give this man a breathalyzer test," said the sergeant . The face of the sister was thunder. "Can not you see he's hurt? You just broke her points! Get out !! "The sergeant looked confused." But ... "" GET OUT NOW !!! "
The sergeant looked very sheepish and then turned back to Tony." We're going to test urine later, we will not Mr. Chapman? I can wait. "Tony fell back on the bed, trying to hide a smile." do not come back here until we have completed our review "Sister pulled back. Now get out !!" Sergeant grudgingly left. "Do not worry boys," the sister said when he was sneaking out of reach. "We will not be finished with you for hours. Unless you've drunk enough to sink a battleship, your pee should be good then." She laughed good heart and went out, and the hall we could hear it again reprimand the sergeant. What woman.