You sure do see some sights in hospital, especially when your room is first cab of the rank and every bugger walks by you to enter the ward.
The upside is that every hot young doctor / nurse / physio has to pass by several times a day, the downside is having every prick take a good long look in trying to see if what you’ve got is any worse than the poor soul they’re coming to see. It’s like some bizarre show and tell for the sick and infirm. Two people died whilst I was there too – I shit you not. That’s taking the game too far I reckon.
But I got my own back. In the morning, as the sun came streaming into my room, I would pull the curtain across the room and delicate poise my daily banana ration between the thighs. It made quite the silhouette I’m told. Other times I would simply lay starkers on my bed pretending to be asleep, or take leisurely strolls up and down the ward after a shower, clad only in a flannel, pretending to look for a towel.
But then you do things like that to pass the time. My wife and I had the most insightful conversations whilst sitting in the various waiting rooms for the various tests, answering the tough questions of life like: If you had to have only the one tube used but inserted into the nose, mouth, anus and urethra - what order would you have them do it in?
Sometimes I didn’t even have to make shit up. A Canadian guy, an orderly, came and took me to x-ray this one night. He spent the entire trip there waxing on about how hot the nurses were on my ward, especially the “cute little blond one with the tight ass”. Quite how he knew the circumference of her sphincter I don’t know because he was hardly Mr Personality or indeed Mr Physical Fitness so I seriously doubt he had ever had the pleasure. And to think that I thought it was his torch or something that keep banging the back of my wheelchair.
Another orderly, the one who looked like he had stepped straight out of a Huey Lewis and the News music video used to stand outside my window and fog it up whilst trying to watch the sports news on my TV. Now I liked to be watched by strange men as much as the next guy, but I would always make a point of waving him into the doorway but the moment I did his pager would always inevitably go off – as did he. Poor guy must have had tourettes or something cause he swore like a sailor. Which probably did nothing for the elderly lady on deaths door in the room next to me either but you never know, it might've been quite soothing. She probably got a lot of that back in her era, when men only had to tell their bitches the once.
The guy who came to empty my rubbish bins was one of those salt of the earth guys who is just simple enough to do the shitty job but enjoys it and takes pride in his work. I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite as excited to see a full rubbish bag or know so much about the literage of a plastic bag. Infact it made him so happy I seriously considered cacking in mine just so I could ring him and let him know it needed changing again. I thought I’d blown it though the day he came round after I had just taken an almighty high fibre diet induced dump in my en suite, but it didn’t seem to bother him, quite the contrary, he went back in twice that morning to check the bin he’d just emptied.
By far the funniest thing I’ve seen in a medical sense though was some years ago whilst waiting to have a blood test one Saturday morning at Valley Diagnostic, the place you go for all sorts of tests and the place where you can drop of all manner of samples. This old guy rocks up with a rather large brown paper bag. He’d obviously been told he needed to bring in a stool sample – but why bring a sample when you can bring the whole stool? Which he had, muddy water and all, inside one of those big preserving jars that your Grandad always kept his pickled onions in. The chick at the counter wasn’t phased in the slightest; she was probably just relieved he took the time to put it in a jar for her.
Now the question I’ve always asked myself is did he poop and scoop, or did he precision aim that sucker straight into the jar…..?
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