“I don’t care mate, I’m gonna end it”
A giant 25 stone bald headed beef cake came crashing through the front doors of our Emergency Department.
He eyed up every staff member who passed him, all the while swaying about smashing into cabinets intoxicated.
He had taken an overdose.
It took five people to calm him down, before he eventually slumped against a trolley.
He had just lost his job, had no where to go and could no longer face himself.
But ultimately, he was here because he called the ambulance services.
And rather than an overdose, I feel what he really needed was simply to be heard.