Broke my ankle on a layover in EHBK (Maastricht,Holland) whilst drunkenly chasing a nubile young canadian wench in a local watering hole. To make a long sad story short, I wound up in the Zekenhuis (hospital) for a 7 day stay recuperating from the 6 screws and plate they installed in my limb to hold the bones together. In Holland, hard rolls,cheese and salami not only are lunch fare, but breakfast and dinner as well. After 6 days of bread and cheese, topped off with a 3 times daily needle full of Morphine (good stuff!) my starfish was plugged.... I hadn't shat for 6 days and I felt REALLY bad. (morphine will do that) I told the candy striper to get me 2 oranges, a pot of coffee, and some crutches. I ate the oranges, drank the coffee, and crutched on over to the bathroom, my roomates eyeing me with some suspicion, as I was a foreign devil to begin with and didn't speak Dutch. Well, I had an Epiphany sitting on that porcelain that day...I now know what women go thru whilst given birth. My roomates, alarmed at the noise emanating from within that cubicle had summoned the nurses (I guess I had shrieked at little while crowning..) That poor dutch plumbing was no match for 6 days of bruitboot and smeerkaas. Engineering had to be summoned as well, I guess that large black turd, hard as a piece of granite, was some kinda Dutch world record judging by all the talk and raised eyebrows I received. On the down side, they cut my Morphine ration in half, which required the Canadian girl to smuggle me in two beers a night, so I could sleep....
But that's another story.