11/24/2009 10:40:00 am BenefitScroungingScum 9 Comments

While I'm lying on the sofa, whimpering pathetically and trying to find some food my stomach doesn't object to, it seems like a good time to update. After all, dry rice crispies are not very exciting even if I have left a Hansel and Gretel style trail of them around the Best Man's apartment.

So, I made it to see the Best Man. All the way to Sweden. The journey was relatively uneventful-well, by my standards. I spent almost all of last week resting and trying to get over the whole Oxycontin issue. I'd booked assistance before I left the UK, and it turned up when and where expected. The difference between the British and Scandinavian attitudes to disability is fascinating...even the train had a fully accessible carriage for disabled people, parents with young children and bicycles. The accessible toilet on the train so shocked me I nearly passed out!* It didn't smell and although there was graffitti it was muted. Once I'd arrived I realised what it was that seemed so different about the people...in addition to it being far more multi cultural than the part of the UK I come from, I didn't see any anti social behaviour the whole journey.

Aside from the better facilities there is one overwhelming difference between assistance in the UK and Scandinavia**, attitude. In the UK assistance is usually a bit of a drag. Manchester airport provides excellent disabled toilets and an assistance service to help people get around the airport. The people are perfectly nice but the concept that it's all a bit of a pain to arrange seeps through their very pores. You go where you're told, when and how, for the convenience of those providing the assistance rather than the other way around. So far, what I've seen of Germany and Scandinavia it's the oppposite. People can't do enough to help! Whilst people often offer me help in the UK, this was very different. Those employed to provide assistance have a positive attitude to their roles, probably helped by vastly better equipped and provided facilities than in the UK.

Once I'd realised I was on the wrong train and needed to change, it nearly came to blows so many people were determined to help me out. He'll never see this, but I'd like to tell the kind and patient Iranian gentleman with the prayer beads, who happened to be sat opposite me on the train just how much I appreciated his actions. His face visibly changed when I told him I was British, but he still went out of his way to push me and my case around Malmo station to help me find the correct assistance.

So, the reason I ended up lost in Malmo was because the assistance guy put me on the wrong train at Copenhagen airport. I suspected as much, but thanks to the helpful bi-lingual announcements worked it out before it became a problem and had plenty of time just to get on the train I should've been on initially. Unlike Vodafone UK who insisted they'd enabled my mobile to work in Scandinavia before I left the UK...and who of course hadn't. Which is how I ended up on the wrong train, completely unable to communicate with the Best Man to let him know what was going on. Fortunately once I was on the right train a nice British man lent me his mobile to send a text with arrival times as both the Best Man and Oldest Friend were getting concerned about where I could be.

Despite the week I've just spent doing the better part of nothing and trying to recover...I've tipped back into withdrawl. Hence the rice crispy trail. Again, the Oxycontin is just going straight through me without digesting. Something I would've preferred to know about before vomiting all over the toilet, floor and myself shortly after arriving in the Best Man's apartment. I'm beginning to fear it really is a sex curse. Puking and sex don't go together too well at the best of times, and I really, really don't want it to end up four times in a row!

*though not before getting Bog off photos!
**Germany had a similar attitude to the Scandinavians


Unknown said...

I am so sorry you're going through all this withdrawal stuff - and then, to top it off, it's ruining your sex life, as well.

Sometimes the Fates are just fickle, that's all. Just fickle.

alhi said...

Hey, I'm glad you got there safely. Hope you had a good time in spite of the puking.
Who is Best Man? Have I missed the post introducing him?!

Lou: It seems to be more of an 'after effect' than spoiling the actual moment. Ahem.
Fickle's one of my all time favourite words though, and is perfect in this situation! Hope you and A are well, lots of love

Alhi: It's lovely thanks...he's at work I'm just chilling with laptop/tv etc. Probably the best place for me as I can't decide to go out and do my usual insane type of displacement activities!
You didn't miss a post, there was no post introducing him as such...but it's the guy I was referring to having met recently. His ego may demand a whole post at some point ;) so far suffice to say he is both lovely and unbothered by vomit!

Mister M said...

Puking after arriving at The Best Man's home then again after sex - maybe it's just when you relax...?

.....but what do I know?

Good to see you back online and good that things don't sound as bad as the last time you experienced withdrawal (are they?). Hope you have a safe (and smooth) trip back.

Fire Byrd said...

Well I suppose puking is as effective a contraceptive as any other!!!!
Get well soon.

JaneB said...

The Scandinvians really do seem, from the outside at least, to have a much more multi cultural, supportive society and social system. I'm British through and through, but I do look at jobs in Sweden quite a lot, after travelling there for work regularly... hope you have a great visit with less puking, more fun!

Penelope said...

What amuses me thinking about it is that I'm American and I tend to think (although not with all experiences I've had) that when I'm in the UK they're far more helpful than anyone in the US is. Although considering I still know people (in the US) who think that if you don't work you don't deserve health insurance, I suppose it shouldn't be that surprising ;-)

So, I'm not the only one who vomits after sex. Nice to know. Sigh.

cogidubnus said...

I'm reassured to hear that Best Man (I hope that's descriptive of his attributes rather than predictive of his future role!) is so tolerant of your puking...but that's softy stuff!

I do trust his tolerance extends to (I presume from your comments) the shunning rits caused by your medication...now that sounds more like true lervvv...