Wintah reminded me this week of an incident, and when I say “incident” I mean just that. If ever an event of my life could be described no more adequately than an “incident” — this was it.
And it happened almost exactly about 6 years ago.
I had been offered a solo support for Greg Brady’s band and because I was so shy and hopeless I knew I needed help. So I recruited Laura to play. Laura had never played live before but had written some amazing stuff and she was pretty competent with the voices and the keys and learning her bits. So this particular evening was like a band prac. Just us two cause the rest of the band hadn’t actually been formed yet.
We did a bit of practice and that went fine and I was soon cooking dinner and while we ate we watched some TV and had some red wine and suddenly Laura wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening on the TV and getting progressively more distracted and bizarre. Suddenly she announced she needed to vomit and it all made sense.
Before I knew it she had dashed past me and made a right into the laundry. “Perfect” I thought. My laundry has a big, fat, stainless-steel sink. You could vomit for hours in that bad boy and a few rinses and a quick wipe and no one would know.
So I sat back and gave her some space. I really wouldn’t know how to hold someone’s hair back while they vomm’d anyway. And plus, we weren’t in a nightclub. And plus, plus the horrible sounds coming from that tiny room were not very inviting.
When eventually I decided to check on her I was presented with sheer and absolute horror. THE Horror. I felt my head swimming, I felt the profound understanding of what this all might mean.
See – Laura had not vomited in my laundry sink. No. She had gone to that extra effort to dash straight past and unload into the adjacent washing machine. Yes. My washing machine.
(1) This appears to be the point of first vomit impact – VOMPACT
(2) Vomit splash pattern indicates projectile was warm and highly chunkified. In other words: the victim had just consumed some food – and said food was in a highly undigested form.
(3) These two areas, quite devoid of splatter or vompact are where the victim stood while vomiting.
(4) This is where the greatest concentration of vomit settled, giving weight to the hypothesis outlined above in point (1) that the point of first impact was not INSIDE the washing machine but rather ON TOP OF IT.
But it gets worse.
So as the CSI captions above outline – instead of vomiting IN the washing machine, it seems she vom’d ON the lip of the structure as well as getting a decent amount IN the washing cylinder. But any thoughts of forensics were pushed aside. I quietly led Laura into the bathroom, she leaving big red-vomit foot prints behind her. And there I pointed out the bathroom’s features: “the sink was where – if needed (and she needed it) – you could vomit some more. No where else. Please. The shower area is where you can clean up. I will bring you your bag so you can get changed. Ok?”
Once Laura was “stable” I returned to the laundry and the scene was like someone had died there. I know that seems a bit of an exaggeration, but trust me – it looked evil. All that red wine, all the splatter, all the chunks! I cleaned as best I could and did a few empty washes to clean the machine. There were some dirty clothes in the washing machine already. One was my “swim the daintree” shirt with had this awsm picture of a croc eating a tourist’s arm. That shirt, supposedly washed and clean, days later ended up with pine nuts in its seam.
And yes – I put pine nuts in that meal we ate just minutes before this INCIDENT.
Laura on the phone to Dee. “Guess what I just did?….”
Lake St Clair in Tasmania. In better times.