When I was 13 I fell and badly cut my arm open. It was that bad that I needed 28 stitches!
I was lucky that the lady that lived over the road saw me and used to be a nurse, so she bandaged me up and sent me home to tell my parents to get me to hospital.
This I did and got funny looks from my mum.
When we got back from the hospital, she and my dad suggested that I take some flowers round to say thank-you.
I (after the usual teenage tantrum!) agreed and we all went with a bunch of flowers.
There was no answer at the door and my mum asked if I was sure it was the right house.
Durr! Course it was, I'd only been there a couple of hours before!
Then a neighbour opened their door to see what we wanted.
'Sorry dears, Ivy died last week. We thought everyone knew now.'
Scared the crap outa me at the time!