Getting To Know All About You

Getting To Know You

Have you ever learned to fight or taken self-defense lessons – why did you feel this was necessary or was this something that you wanted to know to feel safer?
A man who resorts to violence has already lost the battle.
The Army no longer accepts karate experts.  The first time they salute, they kill themselves.
If it’s soft, hit it with your fist.  If it’s hard, hit it with a stick.
I haven’t lost a fight since I learned to run.

Now that the humor and philosophy are out of the way….  With my shake, and lack of muscle control, these are all true for me.  I could injure myself in training.  Backed into a corner – fight fast and dirty.  Hit it with a stick, or a brick – and run like Hell.  There is no shame in surviving.  I use my head to prevent getting into situations where I might have to use my feet.  I cannot lose a battle I did not get into.  A soft answer turneth away wrath.  I’ve also seen humor work.

Do you spell grey as gray and also is it colour or color?

 

We Canadians confuse the rest of the world.  We talk like Americans, spell like the British, and throw in random French words.  Socially sandwiched between Britain and the US, I am as likely to spell it grey, as I am gray, without even noticing it until the American English Spell-Check puts a red line beneath it.

I probably have more American readers that I do British or Canadian.  Unless I’m submitting Fibbing Fridays to our gracious hostess in Lincolnshire, I tend to leave the redundant U’s out.  My blog-tag is spelled humor, not humour.

If you typed as slowly and laboriously as I do, you’d realize that skipping all those extra single letters adds up to me being able to go for dinner just that much earlier.

 

Are you now or have you ever been afraid of the dark?

 

NEVER!  My family never indulged in the Monsters under the bed or in the closet silliness.  Even as a child, I was wise enough to know that there were times and places where there might be something in the dark to be wary of, but never the dark itself.

As a teen, I sometimes participated in a Chase/Hide-and Seek game that had me in dark lumber storage buildings, or abandoned factories.  Coming home late at night from the beach bowling alley, I could save half a mile of walking by following an abandoned rail line through a narrow evergreen forest corridor.  I learned to feel the ties and rails that I could not see.  What I did sometimes see, were fireflies, which made the dark walk worthwhile and enjoyable.

The wife and I have been down in two Virginia caves/caverns.  In one, the guide made sure that no-one was fearful, and turned the cave lights off for Total darkness – before glowing watches and smart phones

 

Where do you prefer to do most of your clothing shopping – online or in-store?

 

It’s a little hard to try something on over the internet.  I remember small-town catalog-shopping with both Canadian Eaton’s, and American Sears.  There were too many things that had to be returned – expensive and time-consuming.  You never got the right-size replacement in time for a birthday or Christmas present.

Even an item that fit in the store, doesn’t fit when you order it online.  Tops get smaller, and shoes get larger – a size 8 then, is a size 10 now.  Other than shoes, I may never buy more clothes.  I’ll go into my coffin with four shirts and two pairs of pants, looking like an Arctic explorer.  I’m searching for the post that revealed that my kindly, thoughtful, OCD, wife has put 42 polo shirts in my closet.

***

Anything else ya wanna know??  😕

Crystal Clear Comedy

  • Theme parks can snap a crystal clear picture of you on a roller coaster going 70 mph, but bank cameras can’t get a clear shot of a robber standing still.
    Dear paranoid people who check behind their shower curtains for murderers… if you do find one, what’s your plan?
  • The more I get to know people, the more I realize why Noah only let animals on the boat.
  • Facial recognition software can pick a person out of a crowd but the vending machine at work can’t recognize a dollar bill with a bent corner.
  • When all this pandemic stuff is over, I still plan to wear a mask. It hides the perpetual look of annoyance I have for most people.
  • I never make the same mistake twice. I do it like, five or six times, you know, to make sure.
  • Someone just honked to get me out of my parking space faster, so now I just have to sit here until both of us are dead.
  • My train of thought derailed. There were no survivors.
  • If you see someone buying candy, popcorn and a soda at the movies, they are a drug dealer. There’s no other explanation for that type of income.
  • I know it’s time to clean out my purse when my car assumes it’s an extra passenger who isn’t wearing a seat belt.
  • Dr. Oz says rubbing coffee grounds on your naked body will get rid of cellulite. Apparently you can’t do this in Starbucks. And now the cops are here…
  • Do not vaccinate health care workers first. If it fails, we’re all in trouble. Vaccinate the politicians first. If we lose a few of them, it won’t matter.
  • In the 1960s I fell off my bike and hurt my knee. I’m telling you this now because we didn’t have social media then.
  • Dear Sneeze: If you’re going to happen, happen. Don’t just put a stupid look on my face and then leave.
  • I still have a full deck, I just shuffle slower
  • We all know Albert Einstein was a genius, but his brother Frank was a monster.

***

Mary Clancy went to Father O’Grady after his Sunday morning service in tears. He said, “So what’s bothering you, dear?” Mary said, “Oh, Father, I have terrible news. My husband Edgar passed away.” Father O’Grady consoled her, “Oh, Mary. That’s terrible! Did he have a last request?” “Aye, that he did, Father.” “What did he say, Mary?” “He said, ‘Please, Mary! Put down that gun!’”

***

A barber ran from his shop to where a policeman was standing. “Officer, I need your help. A guy just skipped out of my barber shop without paying!” The officer asked, “What’s he look like? Any distinguishing features?” The barber replied, “Well, he’s missing his left ear!”

***

An American took a guided tour of an old castle. Before the tour started, she told the guide, “I’m afraid of ghosts. There aren’t ghosts here, are there?” The guide answered, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve never seen a ghost in all the time I’ve been here.” “And how long is that?” “About three hundred years.”

***

A widower fell in love with a widow and all their children agreed they should get married. They sent out this invitation: “Phil, Richard, Karen, Allison, John, Matt and Steve request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their mother and father, Marion Johnson Smith and Robert Hanson. Because they are combining their two households, they already have two of everything, so: Please, no presents! Reception and garage sale immediately following the ceremony.”

I Back This Fibbing Friday

Pensitivity101 frolicked far and free, to ferret out these foreign terms.  They’re all Greek to me – so I’m keeping my back to the wall.

  1. Novalunosis

This is a condition sometimes suffered by American tourists in Britain.  Used to homes and buildings with 7 and 8 foot doorways, they rent a Hobbit Hut of an Airbnb cottage.  The first time they head to the loo in the dark, they smack their forehead on the low clearance, and see all those rainbows and stars and moons that cartoon characters see.

2.  Wundervei

This is a word/phrase often heard from my German immigrant neighbour.  He married a controlling bitch assertive feminist Canadian bride.  Meine Frau says that I may not play golf – watch World Cup – play meine accordion – on Sunday.  I wundervei.

3.  Eramnesia

What is the term for the condition that the hapless tourist in question one gets, when he smacks his head into a stone wall, and then has a loss ofi memory?  Er, amnesia!!

4.  Witnessoja

Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, doesn’t just happen to people like mugging victims.  It happened to me, because I was close enough to see what happened, and got a good look at the perp.  When his case came up, I was subpoenaed.  I don’t even know the victim, but I must want to be a good guy, and do my civic duty, ‘cuz this $24.75 daily witness fee ain’t cuttin’ it.  $24.75??!  😕  What genius bureaucrat dreamed that amount up??  It doesn’t even cover my parking.

5.  Sundreesorro

I tried to convince the wife to become a nudist.  Every time she buys a new dress, my bank account thinks that I adopted another family in Thailand.  $229 for a dress??!  If only it stopped there.  I’d like to say that I’m nickel and dimed to death on the sundries – but this isn’t dimes.
You’ll need a new pair of matching shoes – and a belt, to set it off.  A belt??  It doesn’t even have belt-loops!  And a nice brooch, and some ear-rings…. and perhaps an ivory hair-comb, to hold your coifCoif??! – cough, cough!!  How many zeros on that receipt??

6.  Livilence

Livilence is the working to ensure that you enjoy your existence to the maximum.  Don’t be glum, chum.  Don’t take life too seriously; none of us get out of it alive.  I have bad days – or weeks – but I don’t want to always be the bug.  I want to be the windscreen, as long as someone else gets to clean it.

7.  Seatherny

This is the official medical term for hemorrhoids.  The wife’s pet name for me is Himorrhoid, because she says that I’m a constant pain in her butt.  I’m lucky she doesn’t call me an ASSteroid.

8.  Drizzlosis

In America, they say that the Mississippi River is too fast to walk on, too thick to drink, and too thin to plow.  The British have the same kind of problem with their persistent weather.  It tried to rain, but it mist.  The entire country is so chronically damp that you can hear mushrooms grow.  In America, moss grows on the north side of trees.  In England, moss never sees the sun long enough to know where North is, so it wraps completely around trees, like a May-Day sash.  Washington State sends its condolences – and some sponges.  When If the clouds ever part, Brits are confused and frightened.  What is that strange yellow, glowing orb in the sky??  My Grandfather told me that he saw one, a long time ago.  😎

9.  Zirgwè

Zirgwè is the official currency of Zimbabwe.  There are thirty-seven and a fifteenth ffsnargs in a Zirgwè – which, in real money – isn’t!!

  1. Teresaurum

It’s a glass box, like one you would keep fish in, only you can add sand and perhaps some pebbles and make a miniature Zen garden.  Mine has some Singing Sand that we stole liberated from a beach in Myrtle Beach.  A true teresaurum is when you xeriscape it by adding some vegetation that thrives with very little water, and put a small pet bearded lizard in.

Just because all you lovely people are such great followers and readers, here’s a bonus.

What three books have made the greatest impression on you, and why??
Men Are From Mars – Women Are From Venus, A tale Of Two Cities, and Fifty Shades Of Gray….until I was gaining speed, duckin’ and weavin’ – ‘cuz the wife can’t throw that far, that accurately.  😉

Jack Fell Down

Jack fell down and broke his crown, and bureaucracy damn near killed him.

Actually, it was the wife who fell down.  She was just pulling up her pants after using the main-floor washroom, when her tinnitus, and other inner ear disorders upset her balance, and she keeled over backward, smacking her head against the door, and the floor.  Then followed five minutes of painful wriggling to move far enough so that the son and I could get the door open and help her up.

With COVID distancing mandates, it was three days before she even got a telephone interview with her doctor.  The doctor called at 2:00 PM.  When she heard of headaches, sleeping for 12/14 hours, and slurred speech, she suddenly insisted that we attend her clinic, immediately.

At 3:00 o’clock, she found bruising, and a droopy eye.  What we took to be a mild concussion, might be internal cranial bleeding.  She needs to know ASAP!  The city has two hospitals, but only one, shared, MRI machine.  A scheduled appointment could take weeks – too long.  She apologized, but said that, the only way to ensure an MRI today, is to go and sit in Emergency for seven hours.  Eventually, it will get done.

At 4:00 o’clock, we got the wife registered at Emerge.  It seemed simple.  Take the doctor’s work order out of the fax machine, and do the test as soon as a tech could be scheduled.  First, we waited twenty minutes to see a triage nurse.  She checked blood pressure, heart rate, blood-oxygen percentage and temperature, and directed us to the dreaded waiting room.  After another twenty minutes, another nurse showed up with a small cart, and took a blood sample for testing, and warned of a later urine sample requirement, and the need to see the on-call doctor before anything is done.

Then we settled in for the siege.  It is not first come – first served!  We know that she will be seen after the guy who slashed his fingers in a DIY accident, the woman with a bloody nose running down her face, and the young man knocked off his bicycle in traffic.  If we have to wait (and wait, and wait), at least we could enjoy the floor show.  Stupidity and larceny are in plentiful supply.

A chubby street hooker, with more ink than the New York Times, but no obvious distress, showed up.  A young homeless (?) woman, with a giant backpack and two stuffed shopping bags, managed to find a seat in the crowded room, to get out of the rain.  A young, female addict, who survived a minor overdose, stormed out and across the parking lot, still wearing the hospital’s blanket, and screaming, “Get away from me!  I don’t want to have anything to do with you!” at a boyfriend who has had enough, and is already half a block away.

Two security guards have an office with security monitors, just inside the entrance.  We caught a glimpse of them rushing outside, and chasing someone around the building.  Two male, and one female, Police officers patrol in and around the Emergency ward.  I looked for Tasers, but in tight quarters they might get grabbed.  At 6:00, I got her a coffee, and me a hot chocolate from the in-house Tim Hortons outlet, upstairs.  At 7:00 I got her a buttered tea-biscuit, and me a crème-cheese bagel.  It’s going to be a long night, and her diabetes needs to be fed.

At 8:00 a patrol-car cop brings in a young, female shoplifter.  He’s wearing a Taser, and she’s wearing handcuffs in front of her.  The wife later said that, around midnight, two cops brought in three young males involved in a bar fight, not only handcuffed behind, but also connected to ankle shackles.  One of them wailed that, He was just being paraded around, and everybody was going to know!

I had to reluctantly leave her alone at 8:30.  Our two little dogs have been locked in a cage for six hours.  The son needs the car to get to work at 10:30.  I was going to drive him across town, pick her up when she called, and drive back out to pick him up at 7:30 AM.  Already under work-stress, when he heard what was (not) happening, he took the night off, and ordered a pizza, because none of us was eating properly.

At 3:00 AM, she called to say that the (next-shift) doctor had examined her, and she was on her way to Nuclear Medicine.  At 3:45 she called to be picked up.  She entered the hospital at four PM, and finally got out at four AM.  The threatened seven-hour wait had stretched to twelve hours, for a five-minute test.  Thankfully, we now know that all is well.  Without any visible blood or injury, she still could have collapsed out of her chair at any moment.

Do you have a hospital horror story that you’d like to recount?  I will listen patiently, and commiserate.

Good News and Bad News

Doctor

A man is driving down the highway on a rainy night and gets a flat tire.

He pulls over to the side of the road to change it.

While changing the tire his wrench slips from his hand and slides underneath his car.

He lies down flat to inch under the car and retrieve it.

As he’s in the prone position, a passing truck loses control on the wet road and runs over his legs.

The man goes unconscious and wakes up in the hospital.

A doctor comes in the room and sits down next to him. The doctor says, “I have some good news and I have some bad news.”

The man says, “Ok, give me the bad news first.”

The doctor gives a heavy sigh and slowly says, “We had to amputate both legs and you will never walk again.”

The man, completely distraught, takes a moment to soak in the news and asks “Ok, now give me the good news.”
The doctor perks up and announces brightly with a smile, “The guy down the hall wants to buy your slippers!”

***

A man’s mother-in-law comes to stay with them – bad enough but…. One day, he and the wife come home from shopping, and she is on the living room floor.  They quickly call an ambulance, and follow her to the hospital.  An hour later, a doctor comes out to talk to them.

“She’s alive, but she’s had a massive stroke.  I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news.”

The guy sighs, and says, “What’s the bad news?”

“Well, she’s totally paralyzed.  You’ll have to take care of her for the rest of her life.  You’ll have to hand-feed her baby food every day.  You’ll have to dress her in the mornings, and push her around in a wheelchair.  You’ll have to undress her and put her to bed every night.  You’ll have to put adult diapers on her, and clean up the messes.”

The poor guy sighs again, and says, “What’s the good news?”

The doctor says, “I was just kiddin’. She died!”

***

A photographer for a national magazine was assigned to take picture of a massive forest fire.

Smoke at the scene was far too thick to get any good shots, so he frantically phoned his head office to hire a plane.  “It will be waiting for you at the airport.” He was assured by his editor.

As soon as he got to the small, rural airport, sure enough, there was a plane, warming up near the runway.  He jumped in with all his equipment, and shouted, “Let’s go!  Let’s go!”

The pilot swung the plane into the wind, and soon they were in the air.  The photographer said, “Fly over the north side of the fire, and make 3 or 4 low level passes.”

“Why? asked the pilot.

“Because I’m going to take pictures.  I’m a photographer, and photographers take pictures!” said the photographer with great exasperation and impatience.

After a long pause, the man said, “You mean you’re not the new flying instructor?”

***

A man walks into a shoe store…
…and tries on a pair of shoes.

“How do they feel?” asks the sales clerk.

“Well … they feel a bit tight.” replies the man.

The assistant promptly bends down and has a look at the shoes and the man’s feet.

“Try pulling the tongue out.” offers the clerk.

“Nath theyth sthill feelth a bith tighth.” he says.

***

My son and I were talking the other night about love and marriage.

I told him that I knew as early as our wedding what marriage to the wife would be like.  It seems the minister asked her, “Do you take this man to be your husband.” And she said, “I do.”

Then the minister asked me, “Do you take this woman to be your wife,” and she said, “He does.”

 

Now that COVID19 is past, I took the wife to a nice restaurant.  I asked the maître d’, “Do you serve crabs here?”
He replied, “We serve everyone.  Have a seat sir.”

 

They Don’t Speak English

Canadian Flag

One winter day at the JFK airport in New York, a couple waiting for their flight home to Texas noticed a strange pair of folks all bundled up in parkas, fur hats, heavy gloves and boots.

The Texan Lady, musing over where these strangely dressed people could be from, troubled her husband to the point he responded, ”I have no idea…why don’t you go ask them.”

We all know how curiosity can get the better of someone.

Boldly, she strolled up to the Odd Couple, and with all the charm of Texas, introduced herself:

“Hi, Where ya-all from?”

The heavily clad woman responded: “Saskatoon Saskatchewan.”

Smiling, the Texan replied: “That’s nice.”

As she returned to her husband, he asked: “Well, where they from?”

“Don’t know” she replied, “They don’t speak English.”

Saskatoon Saskatchewan is a city in Canada, and yes, the majority of Canadians speak English.

***

This Man’s Wife Wouldn’t Let Him Go With His Friends, So He Does This.

Four guys have been going on the same fishing trip for many years.

A few days before the group’s annual departure date, John’s wife puts her foot down and tells him he isn’t going. John’s fishing buddies are very upset that he can’t go, but what can they do?

Two days later the three get to the camping site to find John sitting there with his tent set up, firewood gathered, and dinner cooking on the fire, drinking a cold beer.

“Heck John, how long you been here, and how did you talk your missus into letting you go?”

“Well, I’ve been here since last night. Yesterday evening, I was sitting in my recliner when my wife came up behind me, put her hands over my eyes, and asked, ‘Guess who?” I pulled her hands off, and there she was, wearing a nightie.

She took my hand and pulled me into the bedroom, where she’d lit candles and put rose petals all over the place. Well, she’s been reading 50 Shades of Grey.

On the bed she had handcuffs, and ropes! She told me to tie her up and cuff her to the bed, so I did.

And then she said, ‘Do whatever you want.

So, boys, here I am!

***

Orange Juice

A man comes home early from his job at the Orange Juice Factory.  “What’s wrong?” his wife asks.  “Why are you home so early?”  The man shakes his head and looks sad.  “I got canned this morning,” he admits.  His wife asks “Why?”  The husband shrugs and says.  “I just couldn’t concentrate.”

Pickle Jar

A man comes home early from his job at the pickle factory. “What’s wrong?” his wife asks. “Why are you home so early?” The man shakes his head and looks sad. “I did something stupid at work and got fired. I did something that I’ve wanted to do for a while. I stuck my penis in the pickle slicer.” “Oh my God, let me see it.” She examines it closely, but can find no injury or damage. “What happened to the pickle slicer?” “Oh, she got fired too.”

***

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl to marry him. She said no. The guy lived happily ever after.

Flash Fiction #212

Hernia

PHOTO PROMPT © Mikhael Sublett

FLY LIKE AN EAGLE

Five year old Danny’s parent had told him –repeatedly– not to jump from his top bunk, onto his brother’s bed. “If you keep doing that, you’ll hurt yourself.” He’d even had to go to the hospital for minor surgery, to have a small hernia repaired. He didn’t remember any pain, only the adventure of flying through the air like a Superhero.

Within a week, he was back at it, looking for his thrill fix. Leap! Soar! Bounce! Floor! – Leap! Soar! Bounce! Floor! ….and then. Leap! Soar! Dog jumping onto bed??! CRASH!! Danny in the living room!

Now he hurt.   😳

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

friday-fictioneers-badge-web

Flash Fiction #206

Angels

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

WE STAND ON GUARD

Okay, gentlemen – and ladies, Mardi Gras is still a couple of months away, so this will be our first, get-to-know New Orleans tour. We will be focussing on safety – ways that people can hurt themselves.

Are there potholes where someone might trip and fall in front of a float? Is there a loose power pole, or low-hanging wires? Are there steep brick steps leading to the street, from a bar that’s overstocked with liquor? Is there a tree that some drunken moron might climb to view the parade?

Stay sharp! It will be a busy week for us Guardian angels.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

friday-fictioneers-badge-web

’18 A To Z Challenge – K

 

Challenge '18Letter K

 

 

 

 

 

KIDNAPPED
BY Robert Louis Scribbledorffer

They did everything absolutely wrong!  If criminals were smart enough to get a real job, they wouldn’t be criminals, would they?

My wife and I were kidnapped, for the big ransom that my ‘rich’ father would pay.  One of them lived to regret it.  I don’t.  Dad’s money is all tied up in investments.  With the economic downturn, he’s barely making the mortgage payments on his ‘mansion.’  Besides, even though I’m an only child, I’m still not Dad’s favorite son.  They didn’t research that very well.

They got into the house somehow.  The first we knew of it was when one of them flicked the bedroom lights on at 3AM.  We woke to two scruffy oafs in balaclavas, waving guns at us, telling us to get out of bed.  They secured our hands behind us with nylon zip-ties, and prodded us in bare feet and pyjamas, outside into the back of their van.

The ‘leader’ warned us not to yell, or he’d shoot us.  It wasn’t till I really woke up that I realized that a dead hostage gathers no ransom, but they might have shot my wife, and I don’t know whether the neighbors would have roused, that late at night.

They didn’t blindfold us.  I’d seen their van, though not the licence.  I watched through the windows as we drove, at every street and every turn.  I saw their house when we arrived.  I could find this place in my sleep.  That worried me.  Did they intend to kill us?

They herded us into a back bedroom, and made us sit on the bed while they added zip-ties around our ankles.  Then they turned to walk out.  I yelled, “Hey, you can’t just leave us like this.  I have to piss!”  The Boss said, “Tough, hold it.”  Speaking of pissed – if I wasn’t before, I was then.

It is said, that a dog can strain against a leather leash, until it rots – or snap it with the first lunge.  I had no room for lunges, but I could certainly strain hard.  As soon as they left, I looked around the room.  On the far wall was a mirrored aluminum dressing table with squared-edged legs.  I rolled/crawled over to it, and put my back against it, and started rubbing the nylon wrist tie against the corner.

By the time baddy #2 came back in, the next morning, the wife and I were both a sodden mess.  He tipped half a bottle of water into each of us, and turned to leave.  Without much hope of it, I asked, “What about some food?”  He replied, “You better hope your Father brings some pizza, when he drops off our money.”

He came back with some more water later that afternoon, and again the next morning.  We, and the bedroom, got wetter and smellier, how demeaning.  Between the visits, it was a constant rub, scrape, rub, scrape.  Finally, on the second afternoon, just before I thought he might come in for our water break, the zip-tie parted.

I found a nail-clipper, and managed to get the tie at my ankles off.  That was about the best thing in the bedroom for a weapon, unless I wanted to hit him with a pillow.  I quickly rubbed full circulation back into my hands and feet, and moved to check the door – unlocked – well, of course, this is just someone’s house.

I risked a cautious look.  The bedroom opened into the kitchen, and there was no-one in sight.  I quickly eased out.  All kitchen knives must be in drawers, and I couldn’t risk making a noise, rummaging around, so I grabbed a heavy frying pan off the stove.

I peeked around the corner, into the living room.  The apprentice dummy was standing, looking out the little window beside the door.  I quietly padded across the rug behind him, quickly, before he smelled me.  Just as I raised the fry pan to knock him unconscious, he opened the door.

There, just outside, was ‘The Brains’ of the pair, coming back with a bag of groceries.  In desperation, I quickly swung.  Later, the police pathologist said that, instead of catching him with the flat of the pan behind the ear, I caught him in the first cervical vertebra, with the edge.  It crushed the bone and severed his spinal cord.  He died instantly, and dropped like a rock.

Still not too firm on my recently-shackled feet, he took me down with him.  Boss-man gaped, then dropped the food, leapt forward, and began clawing at his kidney area, I assumed, to draw his gun.  As I fell, I did the only thing I could.  On the way down, I backhanded him in the knee with the frying pan….  And another bad guy dropped like a rock – this one screaming until his face smacked into the floor, and he lost his gun.

They were armed.  I acted in self-defence.  Two minor, known-to-police hoodlums with guns, out of circulation, a dozen minor crimes solved, no-one said a word about the fact that one of them was dead.  Instead, I got a Civic Medal of Bravery, a television interview, and a book deal.

I was told that the ringleader will walk – not out of jail – but out of the prison hospital ward, once he gets a new knee and kneecap to replace the one I smashed.  Dad claimed that he tried to get the $2 million, but, you know….the markets – the banks.  Gee, thanx Dad.

We got showers and clean clothes at the police station where we made our statements and ate Whoppers and fries, a little book royalty to augment income, a new respect from neighbors and coworkers, and best of all, NO PTSD.  Guns and all, it was hard to take ‘Boris and Natasha’ seriously.  What an adventure!  Let’s not do it again.   😯

 

A To Z Challenge – X

april-challenge

I’m going to dip into the healing waters of medical treatment, and for the letter

Letter X

I’m going to talk about Xrays.

X-Ray

Once upon a time, Doctor Kildare, or Marcus Welby MD would hold your TV hand and solve your medical problems with a reassuring smile. More recently, Dr. House proved that a good doctor could achieve the most baffling diagnosis in a single episode.

THEN THERE’S REALITY

About a year ago, the wife developed a cough. Not a cold – a chronic, hacking cough.  After a week, she also got a sharp pain in the muscles of the bottom ribs, below her right armpit.  After another week or more, the cough was still with her, and the pain in the side got worse.  Neither of us was sleeping.

She called her doctor, and got an emergency appointment. He listened to her, (maybe) and told her to go for an X-ray.  The next day, Wednesday, I took her to the lab.  The doctor was to be faxed the results.  No call from the office on Friday, or Monday.  On Tuesday, she called the office, and the clerk told her that he had not found anything on the X-ray….and had gone on 2 weeks holidays.

The next day, the son dropped her off at the emergency ward at 8:00 AM. I didn’t get a call to pick her up, but went down after lunch to find her, and dug her out about 4:00 PM.

An eight hour stay, and, despite her telling them that the pain was in the muscles of the lower, right chest, they insisted on taking another X-ray, to check for a heart attack.  When that showed nothing, they wanted to do a CAT-scan, to check the lungs, but she’s allergic to the dyes that they’d use.

They decided, instead, to do a Gamma-ray scan.  This showed that, because of the pain, she wasn’t breathing deeply or strongly enough, and the bottom lobes of both lungs were developing fluid.  Not finding any cause for the sharp pain, they released her.

The next day, I took her to the ‘Medical Group’, for a clinic-style, first-doctor-available visit. We got a kindly, retired English doctor, recently moved to Canada, and willing to make a few bucks by filling in part-time for the likes of the one on vacation.

He actually listened to her, and quickly found the source of the pain by reaching over and palpating (touching) her, something that no doctor, nurse or technician had done. He wrote a ten-day prescription for a broad medication – something with a powerful painkiller, a muscle relaxant, and an anti-inflammatory.

He told her to take the pills, and wait another week and have yet another X-ray taken, and book an appointment to see him a couple of days later.  The pain quickly disappeared, and she (almost) stopped glowing in the dark.  When we went back to see him, he still couldn’t find anything in the results.  Of course not! It’s a soft tissue injury.

After three X-rays and a Gamma-ray scan within two weeks, it still took a British Marcus Welby-like fill-in doctor (doubly-named Dr. John Brodie-Brown), relying on his touch and intuition to solve the problem by treating the symptoms, rather than with shiny tech-toys.

A week later, I was reading the blog-post of a lady bicyclist. She wrote that she had developed the same symptoms as the wife.  A doctor diagnosed it as ‘costochondritis’, an inflammation of the nerves that control the breathing muscles.  It’s known, but not common, among people like bikers and runners, who gasp and pant for extended periods.

Even with the best of treatment, (Which very few of us ever get) it is still often up to us to diagnose our own problems, and insist that we get full and proper care.  😯