I got a phone call just after 9am this morning from Lisa's sister. It's always nice to chat, but this time she mainly wanted to ask if I'd mind giving her husband a lift to A & E before he collapsed and died from his injuries. Apparently he'd gone out to his work's Christmas do, and come home with cuts, bruises and a suspected broken arm. Which is the sign of a good night out, if you ask me. The police are currently scouring CCTV footage and looking to charge someone with assault, but personally I think he was run over by a reindeer. I'm sure those are hoof-prints on the side of his face.

Anyhoo, it's not every day I'm asked to drive to the Royal Sussex County Hospital (I don't normally work weekends), but blood's thicker than water, and I could see a lot of it leaking out of his head, so I said yes. Obviously I had to leave in a hurry, but if you want to maintain a healthy figure, it's important to eat breakfast, so I helped myself to a slice of chocolate yule log before I left. And may I say, that's one damn fine festive fudge cake. I need to invite those friends over again next Christmas.

Anyway, I successfully transported the injured from Portslade to casualty, trying to avoid bumps in the road and any sudden braking. I'd hoped to find a route which didn't involve going around corners, but sadly it wasn't possible.

So having driven Lisa's brother-in-law around the bend, I left him at A & E and returned home to await news. It's not easy to get on with anything worthwhile and constructive when you could be summoned back to the hospital at any moment, so instead I decided to write my Christmas cards. They're all done now, so if you haven't received one by the end of the week, you're definitely not on the list, and have probably upset me at some point in the past year.

The NHS have recently pledged that no one should have to wait more than 18 weeks to see a consultant, so my inlaws were naturally delighted to be seen in less than three hours. I got the call at three-fifteen to say the x-ray results were in, and the man was free to leave. Apparently he has a fracture in the joint at the top of his arm, so he can no longer shrug his shoulders, play cricket, or do the YMCA dance. But they cleaned him up a bit, so I let him sit in the front on the way home, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't get blood on my dashboard.

Anyhoo, the good news is that despite the violence, bloodshed and carnage, there's one person who's still smiling...

If you're wondering what the musical accompaniment is, it's Abba's 'I Have a Dream', as performed by the mentally ill people on X Factor. And right at the end, Amelie says 'Hello'. No, really. The girl's a prodigy.