The Better To See You With My Dear

TURNABOUT IS FAIR PLAY!

In case you wonder how I got to be a Grumpy Old Dude – let’s take a quick…. Uh, slow trip through Bureaucroland.

I had three operations on one eye last year – a retina tack, a new, plastic lens installed because of developing cataracts, and a laser scrub when the new lens went cloudy.

Worsening cataracts on both the wife’s eyes were making reading and knitting difficult, and they’re a big part of her life.

Shortly after my third treatment, late last year, the wife finally got an assessment appointment with my specialist.  It was decided that she rated an operation on each eye.  When COVID19 erupted, what should have been a 3 to 4 month wait for a surgical theater, stretched to almost a year.

Finally, recently, we got a call from the Ophthalmologist’s office, giving a date, but telling us we’d have to wait for a time-of-day scheduling.  After another 2-week wait, they called again to tell us that the wife would be the first operation of the day at 9 AM, and to have her to the hospital by 7 o’clock.

For a guy who normally goes to bed at 5 AM, this was not optimal.  Don’t you have something after lunch??  We had some discussion about me sitting in a waiting room for 3 to 5 hours, during COVID.  The day before the operation, the hospital called and said that I would have to remain outside somewhere, until I was called.

The second wave of COVID has rolled into the Region.  We had a one-day count, higher than any day in April.  We worried that the surgery might get cancelled.  It was to be on Thursday.  As of Monday, the Region went to Red-status.

In the first wave, many of the most vulnerable – the elderly, the youngsters, and the breathing-impaired – had died.  In this wave, while the numbers were up, most of them were hardy young partiers who could tough it out in quarantine at home.  The hospitals were actually less busy.  Everything was still a go.

I dropped the wife off shortly before 7, and went back home and got another hour or so of sleep, before they called at 9:40.  I went back to get her, and parked in the pickup lane, by the front door.  👿

The Provincial Government has ordered that masks must be worn to enter any business.  I put mine on, and approached the door, to be met by a Security Guard who insisted that I douse my hands with antiseptic gel.  Then I had to stand back six feet from the woman who entered directly behind me, but who couldn’t seem to operate a pump dispenser.

Next I was ordered to use my newly-sanitised hands to remove my Government-mandated mask, and install a single-use paper one, issued by the hospital.  Finally, I was able to break free and head across the lobby towards the elevators.  Suddenly, a young woman, not wearing a hospital uniform or identity tag, stepped in front of me – well within my 6-foot (Cdn. 2 meters) safety distancing space. I almost knocked her over.

She said something.  I thought she asked why I had come to the hospital.  I answered that I had got a call to pick up the wife.  Oh, no, this is the safety interrogation – the special extended hospital version.

Did I have….
any fever – No
a cough – No
shortness of breath – No
aches or pains – No
loss of taste or smell – No

In the last 6 months – 6 weeks – 6 days – 6 hours…. Did I leave – the country – the Province – my home – my bedroom?  Did I travel to – Hong Kong – Bora Bora – Yucatan – Iceland?  Had I ever had toenail fungus?  Was my Mother left-handed?   no, No, NO, NO!, NO!  Finally, she came to a stop…. I thought.  I stepped past her and headed for the elevators….Sir? I’m not finished.  YOU ONLY THINK YOU”RE NOT FINISHED!

I went up in the elevator to the surgery floor and got off.  The ‘can’t-be-used’ waiting room was to my left, and the surgery suite was behind a locked door to my right.  Perhaps they’ve put a clerk in the waiting room.  I poked my head around the corner.  Three men were sitting in it??!  Two of them simultaneously asked me. “Are you George?/Are you John?”  “No, I’m confused, and grumpy, and it’s getting worse by the second.”

A passing nurse let me into the recovery area.  I collected the wife, and headed back out.  In the hallway to the front door, the wife asked if I would get her a Tim Horton’s Coffee.  There’s an outlet directly beside the main door…. Behind a slalom obstacle course of bollards and straps and signs.  ENTER HERE, EXIT HERE, despite the fact that there was no-one at the counter.

I managed to get to the order window, and the perky little perk-server said, “Sir, please use some hand sanitizer,”  The stuff I slathered on, eight feet away, and five minutes ago, still hasn’t dried on my hands.  I said, “I just did!”  “Sir, please apply some more, to enter the coffee shop.”  You know, the wife didn’t really want a coffee that bad – at least that’s what I told her when I went back.  “Have a nice day, sir.”  OH…. It’s Wayyy too late for that.  👿

And I’ve got another one to look forward to in January.   😯

Assaults And Indignities

 

Grammar Nazi

 

 

This is my annual rant about the mayhem inflicted by the uncaring speakers, but not really writers, of our beautiful mother tongue.  Ah, the things they think they’re saying, when they’re not really thinking at all.

A local reporter wrote a mournful piece about a plaintive in a court case.  Perhaps he thought that a plaintiff was just an ordinary fight.

Twice in two days, I read about a slathering fiend.  That’s your kid, when he puts too much peanut butter on his toast.  A slavering fiend drips saliva from his fangs.

You are more of a trooper than I am – only if you’re in the army or police force.  A member of a troupe of actors, who believes the show must go on, is a trouper.

No matter what path you lead before – confuses the past tense verb, led, with the metal, lead.

Taking a quick peak into the mall shops, happens because it’s often a sneak peek, two words which sound the same, but are spelled differently.  I don’t think they have any mountains in there.

From my prospective, I don’t think – Yes, it’s obvious you don’t think, you prospective dolt.  If you did, you’d think about a visual, or mental perspective.

The populous didn’t know what was happening.  That’s because the information didn’t go to the adjective, but to populace, the noun.

Song writers often miss the mark by trying to be creative.  An oldie, still sometimes played, bemoans “songs we used to like” and other, unnamed things, perhaps like bell-bottomed jeans and disco balls, which have gone out the window.  They may be gone, in the normal state of progress, but “gone out the window” is like throwing out the baby with the bath water – precipitately, prematurely, and without proper consideration.

A similar complaint could be made about the tune that sings about, “Our house, in the middle of the street.”  I can just see poor Mom, run over by a semi, roaring through the back door as she’s serving soup.  I’m pretty sure Our house, was, in the middle of the block.

There were hundreds of make-ship signs, but there were no ships, because the shiftless protesters only made make-shift signs, while they were at the coffee shop pouring over the details.  Fortunately none got spilled on the keyboard, and they found that, by getting right down to the skin, they were poring over details.

You might think that if two guys were either whaling, or wailing, at each other, one of them would be correct.  Sadly, not so!  Wales are strips, or ridges, as in wide-wale, or narrow-wale corduroy, a string-like fabric that once, only French kings could wear.  Corde du Roi – the string of the King.  The strips of planks which made up the hulls of wooden ships were wales, at the top of which were installed the cannons, making them gunwales, or gunnels, for the linguistically lazy.  So actually, these guys were waling on each other – shoulda used dictionaries.

To keep the fans appraised of what’s happening.  What’s happening is, I’ve appraised that the fans should have been apprised.

She didn’t let the news phase her, because she was in the phase where she didn’t know that she should be fazed.

The candidate was taking her queue from the Liberals.  If she stood in the line long enough, the stage manager would have given her her cue.

More bitching about crossword puzzles:

FAQs are not data.  They are Frequently Asked Questions.  The answers to the questions comprise the data.

Part of DVDVideo  Somebody just doesn’t know that the V in DVD stands for versatile.

Joyous to Burns – Aglee  Just because the word contains “glee,” doesn’t mean it’s happy.  It comes from the Scottish, “gley”, meaning squint, and means askew or awry.  SpellCheck doesn’t even recognize aglee.  I’ll have to click “Add to Dictionary.”

How so does not mean whyWherefore means why, despite generations of incorrect teaching of Romeo and Juliet.  How so (or howso) explains how something came to pass or exist, though showing that usually also displays why it occurred.

I wrote that I didn’t want to add any more to the problem.  SpellCheck/GrammarCheck insisted that it should be anymore, a totally different concept.  It also “corrected” a line to read, “I don’t know how you people does it.”

I used the word Clientele in a sentence.  SpellCheck insisted that it should be Clientage, an archaic word, hardly used anymore.  For a laugh, I agreed to put it in, and SpellCheck now insisted that it should be client age.  There’s just no pleasing this computer.

I don’t know if the writers of the TV series N. C. I. S. were serious, or making a joke, but they irritated me, twice.  They had the supposedly intelligent female lab tech describe a couple of agents, “grasping at hollow polystyrene tubes.”

Firstly, the statement is redundant.  If they’re hollow, they’re tubes.  If they’re not hollow, they’re rods.  Secondly, city-dwellers may not remember, but the saying refers to tall, dried grass stalks, not modern drinking implements.  If there are no logs or sticks handy, a drowning person will grasp at straws.

Suspect fleas officer – Why?  Did the officer have termites?

The stationary company, BIC – just sat there, making stationery.

You can have pie Alamo – but only in Texas.

The worst I found was, at least, a non-professional comment on a blog-site.  “Cookie Monster should of lernt restraint right from the start I which him the best”  Again, so few words, so many mistakes!  😦

Like too many others, this gal hears *should’ve* but doesn’t remember from school, and puts in *of* to make the (‘ve) sound.  Learnt is archaic, but acceptable, if you learned to spell it correctly.  She could have learned to put periods after “start” and “best”, and I wish people like her knew what they were writing about.

I’ll leave you with the best.  It’s still wrong, but it’s cute.  A guy wanted to sell his house, because he didn’t want to live on a cuddle sack.