I’d been working there a couple of years and I’d never heard of special waste. We had domestic waste – that came in black bags and was filled with yesterday’s Daily Record and the discarded Twix packets of
hungry nurses. We had clinical waste, which came in a yellow bag, and that was filled with swabs and bandages and anything used to mop up the types of liquid that require a rubber glove to handle. And then we had, I found out that day, “special waste”.
Special waste was different. It wasn’t a newspaper. It wasn’t a used plaster. It came in an orange bag – and it was shaped like the shin, ankle, and foot of what can only be called an amputated left leg.
This wasn’t waste, this was the patient I’d christened ‘Jake The Peg’ from Surgical who I just saw walking on crutches down the ward. This was his leg!
And I had to carry it. And I did – all through Theatre, out through the laboratory, along the basement corridors, past the kitchen (where it was so tempting to pop in and shout “Chef, I’ve got the meat for
tonight’s pies!”), out the back door and round to the freezer. I shudder to think of it still.
That was a Saturday I’ll never forget. And if I had to soundtrack it, I’d use this: Scottish Comedy FC
It’s “My Saturday Self”, the official song for the Premier League. And while they clearly want you to think of packed stadiums, dramatic winners, and flashy goals when they play it, why on earth is it called
My Saturday Self? Who plays on a Saturday anymore? Surely “My Super Sunday Self” or “My Monday Night Football Self” would be a better title? So, instead, My Saturday Self reminds me of a man with one good
leg. Which seems apt, as, in Scotland, most players only have one good leg.