April 30th - Cuntry Boys And City Girls

The morning begins with mock MCQs and Practicals. They warned us that the week would creep up on us and suddenly we're twenty four hours away from our finals.

Shit.

My mock practical does not run well. Airway and breathing in my assault victim are easily stabilised, but when he loses his radial pulse I batter fluids into his arm far too fast.

Without checking for a carotid pulse.

Two litres of saline later I realise I've been merrily pouring IV fluids into a dead dude who probably could do with some tips towards a healthier lifestyle, like, you know, five pieces of fruit and veg a day, or 20 minutes brisk exercise...or a pulse.

Benito laughs at me as I slink from the room.

The afternoon is largely empty. No more lectures and (despite the crashing and burning motif of my mock) Benito seems to think we're all doing alright. I do a little reading in my room, watch some day time TV and head down for dinner.

That evening I'm lying on my bed when Midge wanders in, we're both claustrophobic and bored and frazzled.

I decide I need M&Ms, Midge decides she's coming along too.

Halfway down the drive we find a snowy white lamb running up and down the fence. He's something of a independent wee thinker, because every OTHER sheep is on the OTHER side of the fence.

We can't leave him out there. It wouldn't be right. He'd end up inside a fox come dark.

I turn to Midge.

"You grew up on a farm, right?"

"I grew up in a farm-HOUSE."

"Oh. Ok. Well, we go one on each side and when he runs past, you grab him, k?"

"K."

I start off running up the hill to head the lamb off and slowly herd it back towards Midge.

It is at this point that I learn some important lessons about Midge.

1. Midge has greatly underestimated how fast lambs can run.

2. Midge has greatly overestimated the intelligence of the average sheep.

I watch, dumbfounded, as Midge lifts the bottom of the loose fence up and points at the gap. The lamb looks at her as though she's mental, and tries to ram itself through a square in the fence four inches across.

Midge walks towards the lamb, the lamb runs like fuck.

I run back around the lamb and herd it back towards Midge; trying not to be that guy who goes "No! Like *this*!"

The lamb bolts past me. I fail to catch it.

I run back around the lamb and herd it back towrads Midge, wondering to myself how come it's me that's doing all the running up and down the hill.

Midge is laughing at me.

We slowly corral the lamb into one wee corner and I'm just about to grab him when he tries to run past me a second time. Realising that I'm going to get him, he does that "leap in the air without bending your knees" thing that lambs can do.

And headbutts me firmly in the eye.

I'm not sure who was more taken aback by the experience, myself or my wooly assailant. I do know that only one of us said "Ooohya little fucker."

Thankfully our meeting of minds stuns the little bugger sufficiently for me to catch him by the front legs and swing him over the fence. I'm just lowering him into the grass when Midge pops a hand under his back legs.

"I've got him," she says "He's fine."

Thanks mate. Pleased you're here.

We fail to find M&Ms in Peebles and so undertake the 36 mile round trip to Galashiels, ostensibly in search of chocolate in candy shells. In reality, it's just nice to be out of the Castle for a bit.

Roaming around Tescos, we buy supplies for our classmates and pop in on the Nerf family for a cup of tea. Back at the Castle later that night we make Party Bags for everyone else in the class, little fiddly plastic games, sweeties, energy drinks and ascerbic notes. Last week everyone fiddled and stressed while waiting for their practicals.

At least this week they can play mini pinball in between times.