Thursday, January 18, 2018

If You Think of It This Way ...

We know several people who are dedicated punsters.  In every way possible, they are delightful people - good humored, quick to pick up a check or to pass the wine ... they just have this ... thing (shrug) - about puns.  This is for those people.

I swallowed a dictionary.  It gave me thesaurus throat I've ever had.

Science Tip 
You can tell an alligator from a crocodile by watching to see if the animal in question sees you later (gator) or in awhile (crocodile.)

The Gossip - turkeys are peacocks that have really let themselves go.

Ants:  said to always be at work yet able to find the time to attend picnics.

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Richie's Harem - Expansion in the Ranks

I was quite surprised myself to discover that he has one.  They are the ladies of Wednesday's French Grammar class.  We both attend the Friday French Conversational Class, so any harem members present have to pretend to like me, too.

Of late - Since his four day stint in the hospital - a new type of harem has been formed.

He was discharged home late Friday afternoon.  Sunday morning, a visiting nurse (male - automatically  disqualified) arrived to take his vitals (all fine, thank you for asking) and explain that he was only the first of several more nurses who would arrive for various duties.

Tuesday, Danielle arrived and did physical therapy with him, including walking him down the street for a short distance.  Sadly, she did not say, "Walkies?" invitingly and pull out a poop bag.   They just walked out to the street and came back a short walk later.

Today - Wednesday - the 10 a.m. just arrived.  She was a surprise as when she called and said she'd be there at 9:30 a.m., there already  is one scheduled for between 11 and 12 noon.

Our gunwales are awash with nurses?

If the French Fan Club hears about the Nursettes, the fur will fly.  Good thing their paths will never cross.  Richie can just preen himself on his popularity and never the twain shall meet.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

More Or Less Back To Work

Almost back-to-back I came across two great business names.  Both were clearly not intended to be taken seriously.

Might I interest you in shares of Vulture Investments?  Apparently,  this is the kind of firm where the principals sit up in the tall timber, rifles at the ready, waiting to pick off the slowest and most infirm of the herd passing below.  

Sounds a little mean?  Kind of turns your stomach to shoot at anything?  Yeah, me, too.

This may cheer though - it is a delivery service for party animals called "Foam Home" and it brings kegs of the lovely brown beverage right to your very own front door.  Avoid getting hammered and driving drunk to get your own keg; Foam Home instead!  

Continuing the Richie Report - the Physical Therapy lady came and ran him through some exercises, said he was doing quite well; took him outdoors and walked him and brought him back.  She was pleased with him; reassured him that after five days of anti-biotics, his pneumonia is no longer contagious.  Another nurse will be coming; they like to be absolutely sure patients are not having a relapse of any kind particularly as there are four strains of the flu and the shot efficacy is only 10 per cent.    Or as some would label it:  worthless.  And so this overcast Tuesday afternoon, all is well.  1/16/18

Monday, January 15, 2018

How To Behave In A Hospital

In real life - you've agreed to meet a friend for lunch at the XYZ Café.  You get there first.  When your companion comes waddling in, you have a variety of conversational gambits such as:  "I've always loved the way they potted the ferns along the faux waterfall - so restful looking."  "I hope they still have the dish that I love!"  "Giggle - and I hope Robbie will be our waiter again!  Too gorgeous is all."

In the hospital - unless you are into 40 shades of beige, there is nothing pertinent to say about the décor. What you can see of it anyhow.  Every hospital room I have ever graced with my presence has had the curtains drawn, the blinds sealed shut for a wonderful air of  "You're not going to get out of here - you know that, don't you?  Yes, it's come to this.  A dim meaningless little death, all alone."  

If lunch has been served and the cold, dead, gray remains are just schlumping on the tray, don't bother with any pleasantries about what it could have been.  It - whatever it is - never came close to actually being as it was described on the menu.

Look down, grimace, shake your head sadly and say, "Want me to go  for a Mickey D for you?"
BAD IDEA.  They may be on a restricted diet.  Do not volunteer to bring in food unless you have written permission from medical staff.  Preferably pinned to the front of your sweater/outfit.  The help at MacD's will just assume that you are not an English speaker and carefully beckon you forward to read what to get for you,  smiling reassuringly all of the while.

If other souls, far more generous or careless with their money have sent flowers, do ooh and ahh over them.  If the card reads, "Looking forward to meeting you!  White & Day Mortuary" say nothing at all about the sender.  When the recipient is up and about, plenty of time for that.  Don't bother yourself.

If your patient is looking a little down at the mouth, do not throw yourself onto the mattress with them, laughing maniacally and try to tickle them.  This is a real invasion of personal space and not recommended at all.  Most particularly anywhere in Texas where most adults are armed.

The very hospital setting for a patent's room is a conversation stopper.   It's just too alien.  Your visitor has the opportunity to be out and about, mingling with every day society and what are you going to contribute?   "I had the cutest guy push my stretcher down to X-ray this morning."  Thud.  None of your visitors can top that.

In your own home, you would be hospitable.  In your little beige cubicle just big enough for a bed you have little to offer.  The hospital TV channels are what used to be "real TV" - you turned a dial to change channels.  Ha ha - hollow laugh - they still are.  PBS? ha ha Starz? Gone, all of them gone.  Much like your anticipation of getting out of there.  Roll over, face the wall and go to sleep.  You aren't going to miss anything.  Company won't hesitate to wake you if they show up.  They did go to the trouble to come, you know.




Sunday, January 14, 2018

Hospital Behaviour In Times of the Plague

The flu is most definitely among us.  It is unpleasant and not to be wished on your worst enemy.

I read that many hospitals are turning away visitors to their patients and this makes sense.  The hospitals are swamped; why create more business for themselves by letting the fresh meat in?

If you are a patient, become a curmudgeon and send visitors on their way.  Down the road, you don't want to have to go see them in the hospital because they caught it visiting you and then .... and around and around it goes.

Non-productive.

Thinking about visiting as a general subject ... when I was in for hip surgery, two couples came to visit and because they are extremely classy people, they brought a darling little Easter basket with all kinds of goodies (it was Easter - they don't make a practice of just handing out Easter baskets willy-nilly.)  

I was delighted to see them - sorta - because I hadn't had a shower or washed my hair that day or the day before (because they were waiting for an operating room and I hadn't had surgery either.)

Richie had just brought me the Thai shrimp I'd ordered from Elephant Bar across the street and since I hadn't eaten any of the hospital "food" (quotation marks because I'm not sure what it was) and I finally was hungry I could thank him, set it aside, turn back to my guests and carry on with my company but "No, no!" they cried as one - dig in!  "You need to eat - get your strength back!"  So I sat there awkwardly slurping up the noodles that  had twisted off of my fork.  Not a really great look.

What do you say to someone in the hospital?  This has stumped me for years and years, largely because, happily, few people I know have had to go to the hospital.

For starters, a hospital room is such a strange setting in real life.  Very few of us seem to entertain in our jammies on a hospital bed in the middle of our living room.  Clearly that's saved for the hospital.

They are lying there, wanly, and you bop gaily in and ask, "How're you feeling?"  Slit-eyes will glitter back at you.

Did you bring a book (for them!  Not to extend your visit!)  A couple of magazines?  New - not scooped up from the lobby on your way past.  Waiting room and lobby magazines are smeared with germs - avoid them at all costs.

More on Visiting tomorrow - the Symbiotic I huffed for excessive coughing is making me sleepy.
TO BE CONTINUED

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Report From the ER

Richie said that a nurse told him that the Providence - Little Co. of Mary ER has space for 64 patients (and that includes chairs and cots) and 190 new patients waiting to get in on Tuesday 1-9-18.

He arrived via ambulance around 9 a.m. and got a room at around 3:30 p.m.   The private room they did give him was in Cardiology on the 4th floor.  He was alarmed and asked, "Is there something wrong with my heart?" and the nurse said, "No - but this is the last open room in the hospital."

A little later on, he heard a man who couldn't have been that far away, yelling "You f--ker!" and more along that same line and then he heard pounding feet going down the corridor.  He said it must have been a big guy because you could really hear them.

Moments later, the speaker was saying, "Code Grey ... code grey.." but nothing more was heard.   Whether the guy was a patient and bolted or a visitor was not explained.

He didn't have the room for long  He was discharged around 6 p.m. with the bag of his possessions and another shopping bag of medications as well as an encyclopedia-size folder of instructions.

Ann next door brought over a generous portion of her home-made chicken noodle soup (rich broth and fat noodles) a tossed green salad and a pair of rolls.  Richie ate his up with some speed; it was heartening to see.  He is not a fan of "hospital food."  But lunch looms large in our thinking - we had leftover soup Ann's portioning was so generous.  Lifting a spoon, "Here's to you, Ann!"

Friday, January 12, 2018

Coming Home

Tuesday morning Richie had a fall and I couldn't get him up so - much against his wishes - I called for the paramedics.  It turns out he also had The Flu that is being such a tremendous scourge around here.  The flu had made him so weak that he couldn't get up.

The ER was doing a booming business, all of the cubicles were full and stayed full until  finally there was a room for him.

Update
Today he is supposedly being discharged at 11 a.m.  Hospitals are so full that they wanted to discharge him to a nursing home (!)  to put an edge on his cure.   He declined with some gusto.
One more test has been scheduled and Dee, our long-time friend, reported back to me that when that test is over and the results known, then he can go home  But "based on what I was hearing, It can't be earlier than 4:30 p.m." said Dee.

A big thank you of appreciation to Dee who took me over to the hospital both days and is going today to get him and Ann next door, "Making a pot of chicken soup this afternoon - want some?"  and Tony way far away in Long Beach and  Troy down the street who volunteered to do anything useful that they could.

Update
It's 3:31 p.m. and Richie just called to say that he has to get dressed, get the Rxs and pay for them and then he can flee.   Dee is manning the wheel of the getaway car.

Don't set your watch by hospital time, eh?