"It was December 31, 1998.
I was 21, young, silly, fresh out of Otago Uni, and at a party at a friend's apartment in Wellington.
I was having a great time, dancing in my Spice Girls-style 5 inch-heel platforms of the era, and sculling back the cheap bubbles student-style.
Unfortunately at about 10pm, having already had a few too many glasses of classy Ricadonna (or was it Scrumpy?), I noticed that my foot was bleeding. I was having so much fun that I had failed to notice I had cut the top of my foot on a broken wine glass, and was bleeding profusely.
Five minutes later the entire party had shifted to the kitchen, where I had become the entertainment. I was lying on the floor while a partygoer who was a nurse tried unsuccessfully to stop the bleeding. She decided I needed stitches. As everyone was too far gone on Purple Goannas (it was the 1990s) to drive, we called 111 for an ambulance and me and my two besties headed to Wellington Hospital with sirens blazing.
We saw in the New Year yelling the countdown to midnight in ED (think one of those curtained cubicles on Shortland Street) and got told off by the doctors (think Craig Valentine at his scariest).
The doctors had little patience for irritating drunken fools, when there were truly sick people to help. I feel guilty thinking about it now!
We didn't make it out of the hospital till about 3am, by which time we had sobered up and I realised I was acually in agony without my Spumante anasthetic!
I paid the price for my folly, spending the entire month of January - one of the hottest in years - with my leg in plaster so I didn't pop the stitches.
That's certainly a New Years Eve I will never forget!!I'd love to replace the memory with a New Years at Rhythm and Vines. :)
"
Camel’s Comments
on Rhythm and Vines 08 4 years ago