Thursday, June 02, 2011

What's Your Favourite Rescue Story?

During my 'getting to know you' consultation exercise of the local pavements I think I've been rescued by almost all of my neighbours and an assortment of kind strangers, who, contrary to reputation are not all male. In fact so not all male I have a (mostly) female rescue story to tell from a couple of weeks ago which doesn't technically involve the police in an official capacity either.

As there's so much gloom, doom and despondancy about at the moment I thought it might be a fun idea to share our favourite rescue stories; the good, the bad, the sad, the funny, whatever you like. Leave the links in the comment box and I'll put them up at the end of this blog..

So, back to my unusually female rescue. I sort of found myself sat on the pavement next to the post box about 100meters from my home. Sat is probably the wrong word, slumped in a floppy heap probably describes it better. Fortunately it wasn't too cold as there was no way I was getting off that pavement without someone big enough to fully lift me. Unfortunately all the neighbours were out and poor Roland was 20 minutes away snuggled up in bed with his girlfriend until he got my phone call.

It's very quiet where I live so it was a good few minutes before an older lady appeared to use the post box. She chatted away with me quite naturally considering I was slumped on the floor like a drunk in the middle of the day and she was unblocking a post box before moving onto asking what I was doing there.  I explained I couldn't get up, that help was on it's way and managed to ward off her attempts to help me. I might not weigh much but being so floppy makes me a dead weight and she wasn't exactly the youngest of older ladies so avoiding either of us needing a hip replacement seemed like a good plan.

Having insisted on giving me an umbrella to keep me company on the pavement the lady set off home as she was fretting I was cold. Actually, this is a shit dull story and the only funny bit was where she wrapped me in a dog blanket which nearly tripped Roland up when he tried to lift me....

So, it's over to you. My favourite rescue story isn't technically a rescue story but an avoiding arrest story, what's yours? 


Mary said...

For me personally, also not technically a rescue story, but the one where I tumbled down the last few stairs, landed in a crumpled heap on the doormat, reassured myself nothing was broken but decided it would be a good idea to just lie nice and still for a few minutes... and then the local free paper was delivered right on top of me.

I also like the one where a lady was berating me and Steve for canoodling in the middle of a shop, and then noticed that I was grey and he was mid-rescuing me from hitting the deck!

Oya's Daughter said...

Trying and failing to walk to a club resulted in a fellow who had a limo service stopping and letting me in, so I arrived in style to the wonder of my friends.

Hannah Ensor said...

I must remember to blog my rescue story where 2 young men on a train reassembled my dislocated wrist and got me off the train when I choked. Proper rescue that was :D

Casdok said...

18 years ago i was struggling in a queue with C in the post offoce and a lady came over and asked me if i wanted some help.
Shes been my best friend ever since :)

Anonymous said...

I have severe mental illness.

One day I was waiting at a bus stop. I couldn't cope with the crowds, so I stood back and when the bus came, I got on at the right place in the queue relative to when I'd arrived at the stop. The woman behind me gave me an earful and pushed me out of the way and was joined by other passengers. I tried desperately to explain that I'd got there before her.

I was tired and the bus was packed. Others were going on about me apparently queue jumping. I sat in the stairwell and cried. A nice woman in the heavy shopping/disabled/buggy bay moved her stuff to one side and told me to come and sit down. She told the other passengers they should be ashamed of themselves.

It was rare.

I have lain on the ground with exhaustion when severely depressed (and yes, severe retarded depression can be that bad) and most people just walk past with a disgusted look on their face. It's a rare person that stops to ask if you're ok.

Stonehead said...

I was coming down the winding hill road towards our croft, following a small hatchback that was being driven a little fast for the road. Sure enough, the hatchback ran wide on one of the bends, ploughed into the very soft, muddy verge and got stuck.

I drive a Land Rover Defender, a proper utility one and not a chrome-plated urban warrior's toy, with an array of well-used recovery gear. I stopped, thinking I could easily get the small hatchback out, and went over to offer my help.

The woman driver saw a bearded, toothless, boiled-suited inbred minger get out of a roughty-toughty hilly-billy monster truck and went into full panic mode. She frantically locked the doors, screamed at me and scrabbled about for her mobile phone.

I looked at her with some bemusement, shrugged, hopped back in the Defender and drove off, leaving her weeping and wailing into her phone.

After dropping in at our croft to get a couple of things, I went into the village where I met a couple of local ladies that are known to me. I told them what had happened.

They laughed and one said, "Och, weel, she'll be a toonser then!"

Stitched Together said...

I don't get offers of rescue very often as I am one of the "well looking". But I went to London with my short female friend who offered to push me around in a wheelchair. It was the first time I'd gone away without my partner and I was a little wary but took plenty of cash for taxis. However we found ourselves at the top of a large flight of stairs and to get past them we would have to go a long way out of way. We stopped at the top and looked at them in despair. Luckily I can walk so I could just about manage to get myself down but my friend would be left trying to get a wheelchair down. A young man with an accent, obviously a tourist, saw us and raced up the stairs and asked if we needed help. He proceeded to carry the chair down the stairs and then very politely asked if there was anything more he could do.

Just a simple thing to do and it nearly made me cry. I hate having to rely on other people but when total strangers help, just because they see the need, it restores my faith in humanity.