Thursday, 30 December 2010

What Can't Be Cured Must Be Endured

"I've wet my bed last night," a passenger said loudly, going into far more personal detail than was necessary.

"No you didn't," his wife was quick to correct him and restore some dignity."That was just yer sweating the lurgy out."

The Vallium Run, in line with other remote rural bus services, acts as a Doctor's waiting room where all ailments are openly discussed. There is something about buses. They seem to give people a confident and secure platform to vent their spleen and other problems with their innards. I feel I have been given many personal guided tours of passengers bowels. You can't get away from it.

Today's Vallium Run is a particularly unhealthy bus. So far there have been 3 severe headaches. 4 aches, pains and shivers. 10 variations on a cough from the sound of someone politely clearing their throat during an intermezzo at the opera, to the full blown industrial smoker's barking version.

I'm spluttering and sneezing myself, so fit in nicely with the clientele.

"Are you full of cold, dear?" asked one concerned passenger as she noticed I nearly drove into a wall as a result of serial sneezing. I feel I could write a book from all the advise and miracle cures and remedies I have been offered. The people who seem to be the fittest are the passengers who sneak into the pub for a lunchtime tipple of some spirit. I can empathise with this as years ago my Chinese doctor friend told me to treat whisky or brandy as a medicine and take a teaspoon before you go to bed. No more than that.

"Oh that's great will it help cure my problem?"

"It will keep your blood moving," he had said.

"Yes but will it help cure my illness?"

"Oh no. There's nothing I can do about you. But I can give you something which will get the greyhound you own to win some races."

I therefore take the advice for cures from the passengers on the bus with a pinch of salt. I'll handle my cold in the only way I know - the grumpy bus driver syndrome way.

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