She Wins, Again
“Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?”
Queen MacBeth (V.i.16)
She Wins, Again
Or further adventures in health care
Or, haven’t bathed since Boston
Or, take one for the team
Or payback’s a bitch
Or getting old sucks
Or hospital hair
She Wins, Again
Never used it in print, but there was a day with that little Libra, first day of summer break, I took her to Barnes and Noble, swimming in a neighbor’s pool, Costco, Chick E Cheese and finally a late afternoon swimming class. I collapsed in a chair, and some lady recognized me, “Hi Kramer!” I was too tired, “Gemini?”
“No, Addy’s mom, remember, Christmas? Thanksgiving?” Old family friend-of-a-friend, “they’re like sisters,” you know.
The six-year old won. She wore me out. Age and guile usually wins. Not on this one. She won. That’s a single image from about the same time..
The idea was a quick holiday weekend trip for my Libras to see fall colors in Boston, with a short trip to Salem for witchy stuff.
She Wins, Again
Maybe ten years later? She won, again.
Like 20K steps one day, close to that a second day, and she was still ready to see more. She won, again.
The Boston and Salem portion of the trip was outstanding. Maybe I secretly didn’t want to leave? I had one cup of instant coffee while waiting on the lift to the airport early Monday morning.
Delayed flight, airport breakfast, skipped the line for coffee and just paid for airport water.
Went to the bathroom and yacked up part of breakfast. Got on the plane and sipped water. Got to Baltimore and didn’t lose anymore food, walked around,
Got on the next flight home, and braved the inflight snacks. Excused myself and promptly tossed my cookies in the toilet.
Those two Libra gushed about what a fun trip. I nodded. Got home, ate a stomach pill, puked it back up in the toilet. Lay down. Got back up. The last time I vomited? Pretty sure it was that instant coffee. All that was left.
Methodist Stone Oak is a newer health care unit. Got quickly checked in.
Symptoms, triage, dry heaves, and then a little after midnight?
Morphine.
I don’t think I’ve ever had that before despite my younger years as an amateur pharmacologist. First for everything. It was like running into a soft pillow. Still hurt but didn’t care.
The intake tech, in the ER, ponytail, “veteran” label on his tag, polite guy. “Yeah BDUs are like scrubs. I like a job where I can wear my pajamas to work,”
“Down in New Orleans, they say there’s two kind of people in the world
The day people and the night people
And it’s the night people’s job to get the day people’s money…”
RWH
It was a lick from a song, I tried to cheerfully quote, talking to the night shift ER nurses. Overnight shift is always more interesting.
And it’s the night people’s job to get the day people’s money…
After midnight, got more blood, a CT scan, and an acknowledgment I needed a gall stone removed. Finally moved me to a room, signed a bunch of forms, and the next afternoon, eventually got my gallbladder zipped out. Had to do larger cut to get the root cause of infection, a gall stone over 3 cm. (1 inch = 2.54 centimeters)
Go big and now I am ready to go home.
There are enough IV antibiotics in my system to sterilize an operating theater.
The surgeon who ran the machine operating , he seemed competent and jovial, but I only met him for about thirty seconds.
That must be a sweet job, your customers are out cold when you work on them. No back talk, no arguing, no untimed interjections. I thought he was great.
“The jokes are new to you,” he said.
I asked if I was normal.
I’m still a little lightheaded from the Boston trip.
I can’t believe she won. Again.
