So...I'm home. Early. And with more of the NHS's supplies attached to my head.
We went to arrest someone who was known to be violent (I mean, to be fair, we mainly arrest people who've tried to kill someone...so it's not like any of them are going to welcome us with baked goods and a cuppa.) Anyway, we went with lots of help. Four of us, four uniform officers, all for one man.
But he didn't disappoint. Went absolutely postal, shaking us off like rag dolls.
He tried to run into the back garden, but, amazingly, we'd thought of that...so I burst out of the back door to find four officers clinging to him like ants on an elephant... and joined in, naturally. And ended up making close friends with a very badly made greenhouse.
So, by the time the CS gas and tasers were flying, I was mainly out of it, really.
We ended with one arrest, one fractured wrist (uniform), one frankenstein's-monster-ish head (me), one black eye and fat nose (Sal), plenty of bruises and scrapes and lots of streaming eyes from the CS...
Anyway, paramedics and even more officers showed up, took us all off to our various destinations...John showed up, because Sal called him - we weren't that far from home, so he arrived while the paramedics were busy mummifying my head. Followed us to the hospital, then followed the panda which dropped me home. Staples in the scalp mean putting on a bike helmet isn't happening for a while.
And eventually, after a lot of staples in A&E I was sent off home with him to care for me. Got to pretend I was a doctor though, in a fetching set of scrubs, as my suit is a. ruined and b. forensic evidence.
Mrs H fetched Sherlock, who has announced that staples are 'better than stitches'. I'm not 100% sure on how the hierarchy of medical fastenings runs...probably...sticky tape, glue, stitches, staples? He hasn't seen mine, as they are currently under a ridiculous sticky dressing which I'm sure nurses only put on my head for a laugh. But John thoughtfully took pictures at the hospital, so he was somewhat mollified.
He also showed me this - which is rather cool.
Anyway, John's now having great fun looking after me....honest...perfect patient, me. I'm apparently playing a game of 'the floor is lava' that I didn't sign up to, because every time I try to get off the sofa he's there, stopping me. Although, thus far, he hasn't catheterised me...so I must stop writing this and go and wee out some of the 20 cups of tea he's made me drink so far ;) Later on I might even let him pick some scabs out of my hair..