Weird Day

You know, I thought that I was done with the hospital after last night’s blog, but it appears that I still have something to talk about.

I had to drop off the Holter monitor around nine o’clock, but since I had to deliver Hurricane to playschool at 9:15, the hospital can wait. I did decide to take off the electrodes at home. I am not sure just how much skin I ripped off, but there is a possibility I could make a smallish child. What kind of adhesive do they use?

I parked in my regular spot on the road and did the short walk to the entrance, dodging seriously injured smokers that can’t help themselves and hospital workers that should know better than to smoke. I paid particular attention to how I got to the CV lab today in order to avoid yesterday’s fiasco. I dropped the monitor off and retraced my steps to the elevators. I was feeling pretty smug and relieved when I heard a woman yelling “Nooooooooo….” Then I heard a voice say “Just come with us dear!” Uh-oh!

Then, an ethereal vision glided past with her hair and hospital gown flowing in the non existent breeze, looking back at her would be captors, a look of terror on her face. Two nurses were in pursuit and a third was calling security on a cell phone. I stood there wondering if I would be the headline on the six o’clock news. The elevator doors opened up and I got on, pressed “M” and then kept pushing the door closed button. I am convinced those buttons aren’t even hooked up; they are just there to give you something to do while you are hoping that a psychotic killer doesn’t run through the open doors of the elevator. The doors finally closed and before I could click my heels together three times and say “I wish I were home, I wish I were home!” I was on the main floor.

I walked out into an armed camp! There were burley security guards everywhere. I don’t think I have ever seen even one guard in a hospital, let alone twenty. They were making plans that would have made Hitler’s invasion of Poland seem like child’s play. I thought it’s lucky that they aren’t after me. Hmmmm…lucky…maybe I should buy a lotto ticket. I went into the store and while I was waiting I noticed this guy, I am guessing he was either a heroin addict, crack addict or someone with really bad personal hygiene looking at the scratch tickets. He was mumbling to himself,”Hmmmm…fifty thousand…100,000…a million…I have a million.” and he turned and shuffled off putting the fistful of twenties and fifties back in his pocket. I didn’t know that being a bum was such a lucrative occupation. I could do that! I am almost there now. I bought my ticket on a dream, dodged the walking dead and security guards in the lobby and made my escape. Once outside, I looked up to the rooftop just in case the whack-a-doodle decided she could fly. I didn’t want her to land on me.

I started to go back to the car, my attention was drawn away from the roof when I noticed a guy walking out of the Emergency holding one of those kidney shaped trays they give you to puke into. They are pretty much useless, because if I am in the hospital to puke it is going to be projectile vomiting and that little kidney shaped pan will just act to deflect the stream away from me and on to someone else. So, this guy is walking away from the hospital and every now and then he stops to puke on the sidewalk. It was projectile vomit by the way.  I was going to yell out “Hey, use the pan!” but I thought better of it. I watched him puke five times before I got to the car and couldn’t help but think that he should have stayed in the Emergency room.

I said a little prayer thanking my personal deity for not encouraging me to seek a career in the health field.

Weird day and its only 9:15 AM.