The Levellers. If you Wikipedia this band, you’ll find out that they are ‘a popular English rock band influenced by punk and traditional English music’ who were particularly popular in the early 90’s. As I found out on a warm evening in July, they are also a very fun band live with a very hardcore fan base who aren’t afraid of moshing it up even in such an un-moshy venue as ‘At Proud’. Unprepared for that, I strolled to the venue through the city, sun shining strongly in the sky, thanking the heavens I was wearing my sandals on such a warm evening. I was very excited to be going to the gig, even though before that day I had never heard of the band, as I knew that my friends and I were on the guest list. The guest list!  After tricking my way into venues by pretending to be on them many times in the past, for the first time my name was actually on a guest list! ‘Euclides Montes plus guests’ I said to the girl at the door when we got to the venue. Imagine my excitement. This is one of the perks of my new job and I jumped at the chance of being added to the guest list for the gig of a band I didn’t know, mainly to be on it. Ok, it was free and it promised to be an interesting evening BUT the guest list played a big part on my decision. Sad but true!

The gig was surprisingly good. I wasn’t expecting to like the band but the combination of a very spirited performance, a few beers and good company resulted in a very fun evening. Towards the end of the gig, Levellers’ fans started to mosh in a very attractive manner and I decided, against all good judgement, to join the mosh, even though as I already mentioned, I was only wearing sandals. After five minutes in the mosh, I had to come out and rejoin my friends as I felt it was getting a bit difficult to stay on my feet whilst wearing my ridiculously inappropriate footwear. After a few sips of my beer, the band announced that this was their last song of the evening. The crowd went ballistic at the front of the venue and the chance of getting into the mosh one last time that evening was too strong to fight and I jumped into it again. Bad mistake!

One minute into the last song of the evening, whilst jumping and jumping at the front of the crowd, I ended up literally in front of the band. I was loving the moment. Unknown people jumping at each other, at one with the beat of the bass, smiling and sweating. One of those moments of secular nirvana that seem to pop up in random places. It was amazing. However, amidst one of the pushes of the crowd, I was pressed against the security barrier separating fans from band members and as the security guards pushed the metallic barrier back into the crowd, it fell on one of the toes on my left foot, breaking my phalanx, ripping the nail off the toe and splitting the toe open. A painful and messy end to my evening. Or so I thought.

If you have come across this story at random, while surfing the web, that’s weird! Anyway, there’s something you need to know about me. I was diagnosed with Hepatitis B and Hepatitis C early this year and I have been undergoing treatment for it since June. As you might be aware, hepatitis is mainly transmitted through blood. Now that you know this,  the rest of the story won’t come so out-of-the-blue for you.

So, where breaking your phalanx should have just raised a few bloke-y jokes at the pub, for me it ended up being one of the most stressful evenings I’ve had this year.

In spite of the pain I felt straight away, my concern at the moment was the bloody mess I was leaving in my wake. I didn’t have time to look for my girlfriend or friends, deciding to walk out of the venue as soon as possible. As I sat down just outside the door, I managed to have the first proper look at my toe. It wasn’t pretty. Right there and then, I had to face one of the moments I have feared since I was first diagnosed. The moment when I would have to turn to a complete stranger and say ‘please, avoid my blood, it could kill you’. Ok, I didn’t have to say that, but as the manager very kindly ran out with a first aid kit in her hands and threw herself to help me, I had to stop her, explaining my condition and asking her to make sure there wasn’t a trail of ‘toxic blood’ in the venue. Luckily the mess was next to nothing inside [my sandal collecting most of the blood dripping from my injured toe!] and it was now being neutralised in the little spot where I was seating.

By then, my concerned girlfriend and friends were standing by my side and I was feeling quite energised by the fact that telling complete strangers that my blood was a bit dangerous wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it to be. I had to wait for a while for the ambulance and when they showed up, after a little hiccup that arose from a misunderstanding between the ambulance crew and myself, I was taken to hospital.

At hospital, the usual wait ensued. After a couple of hours, my name, now residing on a different guest list altogether, was called. It was decided that I need a few stitches and good course of antibiotics.

As I limped my way home that evening, at 4am, the dark city felt threatening and asphyxiating at once. My patient girlfriend looking at me with an understandable mix of sadness, tiredness, worry and anger helped me walk up the stairs of our house. I sat down in my sofa to have one last cigarette and the stupidity of my actions began to dawn on me.  I felt very tired and drained and that night I decided that, for the next year at least, precaution will be my new best friend. I’ve given myself rules and set myself limits. And I’m sure that for a while, I’ll toe the line.