Hospital time. Life is a beach.

[williamlayton]

You know why---I laughed my arse off at your OP. I did it for two reasons, the first and most important was, it was a funny, funny piece.
The second--equally important---was you might as well learn quickly---it has only begun. Murphy is alive and well and HE knows and chuckles at your inability to understand.
Don't you know that age 66 is shorthand for the devils 666.
If you can't laugh at the changes coming there is another use for that new shotgun.
Blessings

 

[Doug M.]

Sometimes hospital folks are clueless. My experiences in 2008 were pretty good, but when my wife had back surgery this summer, I had an awful time with the nurses. She gets migraines, and opiates can be a trigger. Migraines are not something they deal with in a hospital, and I had a pointless conversation with a nurse every 36 hours or so. It finally got so bad she was hallucinating in addition the pain. Called the surgeon's office, and after they got out of that day's surgery, the PA called me back and we had a conversation. He went to her room (the office is in the same complex), and in an hour had made big changes and she was already doing better. Frustrating. The freakin' nurses would not contact the doctors (surgeon or hospital) because they did not grasp the issue and probably thought I was a crackpot. Spend 28 years with a serious migraine sufferer, and you get some knowledge.

 

[model70hunter]

You know why---I laughed my arse off at your OP. I did it for two reasons, the first and most important was, it was a funny, funny piece.
The second--equally important---was you might as well learn quickly---it has only begun. Murphy is alive and well and HE knows and chuckles at your inability to understand.
Don't you know that age 66 is shorthand for the devils 666.
If you can't laugh at the changes coming there is another use for that new shotgun.
Blessings

Thanks, humor bled through the ineptness of others.

It was tongue in cheek, which required 12 stitches......

I'm pulling my Sap out of retirement for Mr. Murphy.

I do believe humor is good medicine.

I walked one 40 acre field on my farm today with the Benelli looking for an Elmer Fudd nemesis. I bagged the only one I saw. But I guess I have more in common with Bugs, he always says "What's up Doc"?

The Benelli Montefeltro Super 90 is as light as a feather and a joy to hold. It comes to the shoulder like lightening, lines up with my eye perfectly and hits exactly where it's supposed to.

I feel better, much, much better now.

 

[sevensix]

Sickles

Unscheduled hospital visits are not pleasant even if you are paying for deluxe accomodations at the white castle. That was my experience tonight when my nervous system short-circuited and did respond to the usual home remedy from my vast supplies of usuallly effective benzodiazepines. In hast, off to ER we go hoping to beat the stabbings, gunshots, and motor vehicle crunchies bent-on-destruction-crowd. We arrive early but miss the free pizza. They later tell me that was not pizza on the floor.

I am wheeled in to a large exam room in my own chair and transfer to a narrow exam table where my t-shirt is removed automatically by a compassionate nurse with huge scissors in her apron smock. Yup, pants come next, but not this time. I am given a gown made by a famous clothier in Yugoslavia who, like others, have an obvious shortage of buttons IN THE BACK. Doc comes in and we talk or at least I mumble as my brain and vocals are not communicating in a language not familiar to either of us. Hand signals do not work. I am having massive spasms and nothing works. Doc rings up pharmacy and they bring a small dose of Ativan where I am given the option of its exact GPS injection site. I say the butt; she counteroffers for the arm. They always give it in the butt and she wants to go for the flailing appendage. Problem is solved when I bank sharply to port left exposing tender target rich pink bullseye. I feel nothing.

Oh yeah, one more thing: urine sample. I just self-cathed at home and was feeling there is nothing to collect for the lab. Wanna bet, she says? I loose that one. Even if the bladder feels empty (or bashful kidney's in this scenario) nurses have ways to drill deep and tap the golden aquifer and get what they want, and that she did. After much experience with catheters it and modesty no big deal to me anymore. It evens bores my dog by now. I was offered to cath myself but muscle spasms were still quite "animated" where accuracy and first time placement was the desired outcome. That done (again, no pain) doc comes in for summary chit chat and sends me home with instructions see my neuro next week. I go home and crash. Tomorrow is a different world. -sevensix

 

[model70hunter]

Unscheduled hospital visits are not pleasant even if you are paying for deluxe accomodations at the white castle. That was my experience tonight when my nervous system short-circuited and did respond to the usual home remedy from my vast supplies of usually effective benzodiazepines. In hast, off to ER we go hoping to beat the stabbings, gunshots, and motor vehicle crunchies bent-on-destruction-crowd. We arrive early but miss the free pizza. They later tell me that was not pizza on the floor.

I am wheeled in to a large exam room in my own chair and transfer to a narrow exam table where my t-shirt is removed automatically by a compassionate nurse with huge scissors in her apron smock. Yup, pants come next, but not this time. I am given a gown made by a famous clothier in Yugoslavia who, like others, have an obvious shortage of buttons IN THE BACK. Doc comes in and we talk or at least I mumble as my brain and vocals are not communicating in a language not familiar to either of us. Hand signals do not work. I am having massive spasms and nothing works. Doc rings up pharmacy and they bring a small dose of Ativan where I am given the option of its exact GPS injection site. I say the butt; she counteroffers for the arm. They always give it in the butt and she wants to go for the flailing appendage. Problem is solved when I bank sharply to port left exposing tender target rich pink bullseye. I feel nothing.

Oh yeah, one more thing: urine sample. I just self-cathed at home and was feeling there is nothing to collect for the lab. Wanna bet, she says? I loose that one. Even if the bladder feels empty (or bashful kidney's in this scenario) nurses have ways to drill deep and tap the golden aquifer and get what they want, and that she did. After much experience with catheters it and modesty no big deal to me anymore. It evens bores my dog by now. I was offered to cath myself but muscle spasms were still quite "animated" where accuracy and first time placement was the desired outcome. That done (again, no pain) doc comes in for summary chit chat and sends me home with instructions see my neuro next week. I go home and crash. Tomorrow is a different world. -sevensix

You sir have maintained your sense of humor under horrendous conditions. I enjoyed your story and salute you for your bravery..

Godspeed sevensix.

P.S. I see you were in the Corp. My son was too, 2nd Marines. He did Desert Storm to free
Kuwait.

Duane.