Nicola O’Teen (52) visited her local accident & emergency department this morning complaining of a shortness of breath.
Mrs O’Teen, who has smoked from she was 8-years-old, was hoping they’d be able to get to the bottom of her mysterious respiratory issues.
The mother-of-three arrived in an ambulance shortly after 9am clutching a twenty-deck of Superking Menthols.
“I tried ringin’ a taxi but they said all their drivers were on jobs and couldn’t send me one for fifteen minutes. So I rang a wee ambulance instead”, explained Nicola.
“It had me here in less than five minutes – plus I didn’t have to pay a fare”, she said with a cheeky wink and wry grin.
“I just kept my jammies on in case the big doc wants to keep me in”, she added.
After finding a seat among the usual assortment of hypochondriacs, junkies and brawlers, Nicola glanced at the electronic noticeboard displaying the approximate waiting time:
“Four-f**kin-hours??? Tell the doctor I’m outside having a wee puff if they call my name out’. I’d look sweet sitting there for four hours without a feg”, she barked.
“And there’s f**k all wrong with half of them in there. I see them here all the time”, she shouted while pointing in at the packed waiting room.