The fun started when I left home – left my personal mobile handset at home. Not so much of a disaster tho – quick sms to Emma to ask her to throw it in my room, and the realisation that I had my Australian sim card on me anyway. Phew!
But, that was not the end of the fun! When I got to Dublin, and through the check in proceedure etc I did a little shopping then decided that a cup of tea would be nice. So off I go to a little cafe just next to the gate. Get my tea and a croissant and then sit down at a table.
So I start fiddling around with those stupid little milk pots. You know how hard they are to open and when you do finally get them open they spurt, so there I was opening the pot above the cup of tea when I finally get the pot to open, but as I do my hand jerks back and then forward, bringing the tea down. My quick reflexes jumped in and I pushed the tea away from me with my right hand. Yes, great reflexes – pity they don’t pause long enough to think "hot bloody water!"
So, I’m standing and my hand is bright red and there’s hot water on my hand and sleeve and my legs and I’m in a mild state of shock and everyone else there is just looking at me, so I start to scream, they all sit there. So I yell "can someone help me I’m burnt". That worked. Two people jumped up and grabbed my elbow and started walking me to the counter where someone else ran to ask for water. As I was waiting for the assistant to get water (soooo slow) a quick-thinking customer opened the bottle he’d just purchased and dumped the whole thing of cold water on my hand. Then the assistant told me to come round the back. I was very confused – I just wanted water! But he stuck me under a running cold tap and told me to stay there.
After a minute of so a woman appeared with her child to tell me that she and her kids were watching my bags (eek – you don’t think of that!) and to tell me to stay where I was. After a while the assistant managed to contact someone and told me help was on the way.
Anyway, three Garda (that’s the Irish police) turned up and they called the ambulance. One of the Gards took my handbag off me, and another came and talked me through what would happen and kept telling me I was doing a good job. Of course by now I’m shaking and having trouble talking.
The ambulance guy turned up and they all pretty much picked me upand carried me to a chair where they covered my hand in some sort of gel goop and then wrapped in various layers of wet and dry bandages. Now I start to cry – survival stuff wears off and I can let my emotions to do with the shock happen. They took a statement and loaded me up with masses of extra supplies and told me how to treat it.
So, there I was about to start a 22 hour journey and I’m in pain and I’ve lost the functions of my right hand. When I tried to hang it down the goop would flow out! I was feeling rather sorry for myself and frustrated at my inability to do much with my left hand.
But it’s amazing how lovely people can be – quite a few gentlemen offered to help me and so I soon had people openeing my bags and putting my jacket away and then carrying my bags for me onto the plane. The trip to Paris wasn’t dull – a lovely guy sat next to me and we chatted all the way, but he suggested I give the tea a miss.
Once at Paris the guy who was driving me to my terminal took my bags for me and carried them to the gate.
On board I had to get a steward to help me change the dressings, but by Singapore I was much improved. My hand was hideous, but some stewardess-supplied moisturisor helped immensly there. I still had a couple of tender patches so I left a bandage on for the remainder of my trip.
Once at Melbourne, the ship’s captain helped me get my bags off the baggage carousel. Well, he was standing next to me and I obviously needed help….
So, that was my trip. All things considered not so bad, but I honestly would prefer not to get attention quite like that again! My hand is good now, but there’s a patch of tender scold on my wrist.