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I work in Hairmyres Hospital shop and I was there last night till about nine o' clock and then walked home. My mum also works in Hairmyres Hospital in Ward 9 and subsequently thats how I managed to find a job there. George Orwell also began writing 1984 in Hairmyres Hospital for trivia fans. Hairmyres Hospital is also the place where my brother always seems to visit including last night.
So I'm walking home from work last night and waiting to cross the road, I notice an ambulance passing and then cross after it goes straight on. This was probably the ambulance that my drunken brother was lying in unconscience and covered in blood.
So I get home last night, in a bit of a mood because you know I had no money and all my friends were out at Halloween Party that I couldn't go to. Mum cheers me up a bit and I order myself a pizza. I ask where Iain is? My younger brother of 15. He was down the road at his friend's house. Then we my mum answers a phone call in the kitchen, I could immediately tell something was wrong from the sound in her voice. She storms through in hysterics shouting about Iain in hospital, how he was completely pzssed out his face and cut his head. I phone a taxi and my parents go to hospital.
So I spend the whole night walking about worried out my head, full of anger because he lied to my parents and I didn't know if he had been beaten up etc. Dad phones in pretty bad way, explains briefly what happens and doesn't know if they'll come home.
I eventually get to sleep at about 3am. I wake up and my family are still out. They came home about 12 and I just couldn't look at him in the eye (literally as he only had one working, bit of comix relief). He looked terrible... mum said I should go easy as he was in a bad mental state. Crying all morning, he knew what he had done and he hated himself so much that my parents were worried that he could go suicidal if we shouted at him etc. So we spent all day hugging him etc... although it took me about 6 hours to finally say more than two words to him.
Nobody can believe it. He drank nearly a bottle of whiskey or vodka (nobody knows) at a fecking underpass... then got so out his face went to the toilet, fell and smashed his head open. He eventually passed out, some of his friends FUICKING ran away and left him there. If it wasn't for a few sober ones he could have lay there all night and died. When he got to hospital he needed stitches and put on oxygen because it was so low in his blood stream. Doctor told my mum any more alcohol and he could have stopped breathing and would have died. When I was told this my whole state of mind just fell apart and I've just managed to start concentrating since.
My parents are great, they've raised myself and my brother the best way anyone could imagine. Yet the stupid little bar steward drifts away with some neds, becomes lying and decetful to my parents and ends up drinking at a bloody underpass on a Friday night. I can't believe it, I'm angry and sad at the same time. Every time I look at him now I want to burst into tears or shout at him as much as I can. It's just a massive mess. He knows what he has done, I can never act the same way around him again. He's lost every ounce of trust and respect I had for him and it will take him a while to get it back. Something good from this is I think it hit him very badly and the stupid little fecker might get his life back on track.
Sorry, but I just needed to get some stuff out my head. It's made me think about life. When I came in from work last night moaning about money and stupid nights out when my brother could have been lying dead somewhere. Grrrr after a few days he's getting one hell of a talk from me and I feel like a word or two with some of his friends.
So I'm walking home from work last night and waiting to cross the road, I notice an ambulance passing and then cross after it goes straight on. This was probably the ambulance that my drunken brother was lying in unconscience and covered in blood.
So I get home last night, in a bit of a mood because you know I had no money and all my friends were out at Halloween Party that I couldn't go to. Mum cheers me up a bit and I order myself a pizza. I ask where Iain is? My younger brother of 15. He was down the road at his friend's house. Then we my mum answers a phone call in the kitchen, I could immediately tell something was wrong from the sound in her voice. She storms through in hysterics shouting about Iain in hospital, how he was completely pzssed out his face and cut his head. I phone a taxi and my parents go to hospital.
So I spend the whole night walking about worried out my head, full of anger because he lied to my parents and I didn't know if he had been beaten up etc. Dad phones in pretty bad way, explains briefly what happens and doesn't know if they'll come home.
I eventually get to sleep at about 3am. I wake up and my family are still out. They came home about 12 and I just couldn't look at him in the eye (literally as he only had one working, bit of comix relief). He looked terrible... mum said I should go easy as he was in a bad mental state. Crying all morning, he knew what he had done and he hated himself so much that my parents were worried that he could go suicidal if we shouted at him etc. So we spent all day hugging him etc... although it took me about 6 hours to finally say more than two words to him.
Nobody can believe it. He drank nearly a bottle of whiskey or vodka (nobody knows) at a fecking underpass... then got so out his face went to the toilet, fell and smashed his head open. He eventually passed out, some of his friends FUICKING ran away and left him there. If it wasn't for a few sober ones he could have lay there all night and died. When he got to hospital he needed stitches and put on oxygen because it was so low in his blood stream. Doctor told my mum any more alcohol and he could have stopped breathing and would have died. When I was told this my whole state of mind just fell apart and I've just managed to start concentrating since.
My parents are great, they've raised myself and my brother the best way anyone could imagine. Yet the stupid little bar steward drifts away with some neds, becomes lying and decetful to my parents and ends up drinking at a bloody underpass on a Friday night. I can't believe it, I'm angry and sad at the same time. Every time I look at him now I want to burst into tears or shout at him as much as I can. It's just a massive mess. He knows what he has done, I can never act the same way around him again. He's lost every ounce of trust and respect I had for him and it will take him a while to get it back. Something good from this is I think it hit him very badly and the stupid little fecker might get his life back on track.
Sorry, but I just needed to get some stuff out my head. It's made me think about life. When I came in from work last night moaning about money and stupid nights out when my brother could have been lying dead somewhere. Grrrr after a few days he's getting one hell of a talk from me and I feel like a word or two with some of his friends.
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Lay off your brother a little bit.
The fact you're angry highlights you as a very caring person, and you will definetly know that we have all done things, stupid things that are similiar. He hates himself for it, just make sure that he knows you don't hate him too.
Good luck man.
The fact you're angry highlights you as a very caring person, and you will definetly know that we have all done things, stupid things that are similiar. He hates himself for it, just make sure that he knows you don't hate him too.
Good luck man.
Yea, we all make mistakes, what I mean is, don't let him get away with it, make him realise he was VERY lucky, and maybe he should look at the people around him.
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