My first encounter was a handsome young Italian man who attended hospital with the majority of a toilet brush inside of him (bristles first), and went home with a colostomy bag. His big Italian mother was grateful in ways that Brits never are, lavishing thanks and praise on every member of staff she met for saving her son’s life. She put her arm round the equally handsome young man who attended hospital with her son. ‘And thank God his friend Philip was staying in the spare room at the time to call the ambulance!’
