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A sharp issue

September 18, 2013 Leave a comment

A couple of days ago I was out walking the dog. We were on a main road, heading towards the meadows where I usually let her off-lead to chase sticks. And we found a slightly hysterical woman with two small dogs and a toddler. The reason for her hysteria was that her toddler had just tried to pick something up off the ground, and then she’d seen what it was: someone’s shooting-up kit – a couple of used syringes, one with a needle that looked like the end of it had been seared with a cigarette lighter or something.

Yes, of course there are places where heroin users leave their old needles and such, but it doesn’t happen round here – or at least that’s the first one I’ve come across in a couple of years of living here. And the neon green of the plunger inside the syringe did make it the kind of thing a toddler could be attracted by.

Long story short: since I have a dog, I carry plastic bags with me. So I carefully picked up the kit without touching it, took it home and found a tin to put it in so I could safely carry it for disposal. But yesterday, disposal was surprisingly difficult. The local pharmacy said, disingeuously I thought, that they don’t have sharps disposal. I can’t imagine why any pharmacy shouldn’t have sharps disposal since they issue and accept needles for people who have a range of medical conditions. My doctor’s surgery did take it, but only after I explained the whole situation to them and they finally accepted that removing a used needle from a public place where a toddler had been at imminent risk and other people and dogs could hurt themselves on it wasn’t an unreasonable thing to do.

Then I asked what I should have done. Their reply was that I should phone the local council street cleaning department, identify the location to them and they’d send  out someone with a sharps box and armoured gloves. But it might take a day or two. My thought was that in that time, either someone else (or a dog) could injure themselves on it, or it could just get kicked around by careless passers-by and be lost.

It wasn’t so long ago that advice on finding used needles was to do pretty much what I did; pick it up safely and dispose of it at any pharmacy, surgery, or any other place that had a sharps disposal facility. True, I initially picked it up and carried it in a plastic bag – in an ideal world I would have had something more secure, like a plastic or metal container, though it was in one of those within a couple of hundred metres.

I’ve just checked online and the current official advice is, actually, what the surgery said: not touch it and inform the local council’s street cleaning or waste management team.  I can see the logic of this in terms of health and safety for the person finding the needle; and I guess any council that says ‘Just pick it up safely’ could open themselves up to legal action. But this seems to be a situation where doing the ‘right’ thing also seems to create risk for other people in the meantime. It seems to be a small example of the way everyone is increasingly treated as incautious infants rather than responsible adults who can recognise and deal adequately with risks at their own discretion.

Faith in human nature?

September 7, 2013 2 comments

We recently bought a new campervan – well, not exactly new, it’s almost 20 years old.  So we decided to sell our old one, which is smaller and now 10 years old.

This has resulted in a string of people turning up to look at it.

This has become rather tedious, because according to the visitors it has severe rust (yes, it has some but it’s cosmetic). It also has severely corroded brakes, a master brake valve that’s leaking (the ‘evidence’ is there’s some oldish insulation on it), a broken suspension, illegal tyres (they’ve all been replaced recently), and numerous other major faults including the plastic end caps on the side body trim – which cost about 70p or $1 each – being  too old. Oh, and someone told us in all seriousness that the wheels are ‘too round’.

About two-thirds of the people who’ve turned up only want to use it to do ‘fishing trips’. What they want to use it for doesn’t really matter to us; and it doesn’t explain why when a pair of them turn up they discuss how much profit they can make when they resell it. Nor does it jive well with them having trade plates in the back of their car, which are only used by motor traders.

Some have tried to bargain on the basis that it will cost them money to take it to a garage to get X, Y and Z fixed. But then they let slip that actually they are mechanics.

Several have claimed to only be passing through, and live 50 or more miles away. They make a one-time offer based on the fact they won’t be passing by our door again. So why are they driving a company van that usually has a local business name and phone number on it?

One went as far as claiming the inside of the van was damp and would take major repair. He ‘proved’ this by bringing a ‘damp meter’ out of his car and showing us the needle flicking into the red when he touched probes to some interior metalwork. It spoiled the illusion that the gauge on the meter went to 12 volts – in other words it was just an electrical multimeter that demonstrates metal can conduct electricity, and he wouldn’t take his hand off the front of the meter to show it to us.

So my conclusion is there are a lot of people out there prepared to lie and some who will play tricks to try to get things cheap. Which is not, I suppose, a very earth-shattering insight. I’m not any more cynical now than I was before (I always was cynical) but the experience of having to deal with this stuff on a daily basis for the last couple of weeks has proven just a little wearing. I’m just glad I don’t buy and sell old vehicles for a living, and I don’t have to get used to it as a long-term issue. Even though we still need to sell the van.

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