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.   😯

I Spy With My Little Eye

Pirate

I’m going to get my chance to pace the poop-deck, (Heh, Heh, I said poop 😆 ) and do my best pirate impersonation.

When eye wrote of having an impending eye operation, eye expected to be given a couple of weeks warning, so that we could adjust our sleep schedules.  We are unlike most retirees, staying up late partying reading, and sleeping in.

Eye got 93 hours – less than four days – notice.  A lovely tech named Olivia (Suddenly eye’m surrounded by Olivias.) called, at 11:30 AM, Thursday, January 3rd. to say that eye had surgery scheduled for 8:00 AM, Monday, Jan. 7th, and to be at the hospital by 6:00 AM to register.

It was bad enough getting the wife to a local hospital by 6 AM for her two knee surgeries, but this hospital is an extra hour and a half drive away.  We’ll have to be ready to leave by 4.  I might as well just stay up. I could peacefully sleep through the operation, but the wife would need sleep to drive me home.  Then I need to be back at the same hospital by 7:30 the following morning, for assessment and removal of my pirate eye-patch.

Eye’m posting this note a day ahead of my normal schedule, just to give you the heads-up that I threatened promised.  Just after midnight, eye’ll click publish on my regularly scheduled A To Z Challenge.  After that, eye may not post for a few days, or a week.

Eye’ll see you here soon…. I hope.   😎

Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

confession-box

Three couples are trying to get married at the same church. There is a young couple, a middle-aged couple, and an elderly couple. The three couples meet with the priest and discuss when they can get married. ”If you wish to get married in my church, you must all go one month without having sex,” says the priest.

One month later the three couples return to the church and talk to the priest. He then asks the elderly couple, “Have you completed the month with sex?” ”Yes we have, it was easy,” replies the elderly couple.”

”How about you?” He asks the middle-aged couple. ”It was hard, but we didn’t have sex for the whole month,” they respond.

”And how about you two?” He asks the young couple.  ”No, we couldn’t do it,” responds the boyfriend.  ”Tell me why,” says the priest. ”Well my girlfriend had a can of corn in her hand and she accidentally dropped it. She bent over to pick it up and that’s when it happened. ”The priest then tells them, “You’re not welcome in my church.” ”We’re not welcome in the supermarket either.” says the boyfriend.

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LITTLE SHEET HEADS

Two Syrian refugees compete to see who can become the most ‘American’ in three weeks.  After three weeks the Syrians meet again at a McDonalds. The first Syrian makes his case for him being more American by saying: “Every day I have taken my son to softball practice and my daughter to ballet. I just purchased my first car and it is a Chevy El Camino. I’ve recently started listening to Toby Keith and Lynyrd Skynyrd and my favorite football team is the Dallas Cowboys. Beat that!” The other Syrian simply replies with: “Get out of my country, you fucking towelhead.”

***

Yesterday I had an appointment to see the urologist for a prostate exam. Of course I was a bit on edge because all my friends have either gone under the knife or had those pellets implanted

The waiting room was filled with patients.

As I approached the receptionist’s desk, I noticed that she was a large unfriendly woman who looked like a Sumo wrestler.

I gave her my name, and in a very loud voice, she said, 

“YES, I HAVE YOUR NAME HERE. YOU WANT TO SEE THE DOCTOR ABOUT IMPOTENCE, RIGHT?

All the patients in the waiting room snapped their heads around to look at me, a now very embarrassed man. But as usual, I recovered quickly, and in an equally loud voice replied,

“NO, I’VE COME TO INQUIRE ABOUT A SEX CHANGE OPERATION, BUT I DON’T WANT THE SAME DOCTOR THAT DID YOURS.”

The room erupted in applause!

***

For all the ladies who have to drive alone….

“I had a flat tire on the highway yesterday; so, I pulled over, got out of the car and opened my trunk.

I took out my cardboard men, unfolded them and stood them at the rear of my car facing oncoming traffic. They look so lifelike you wouldn’t believe it!

Just as I had hoped, cars started slowing down looking at the men, which made it much safer for me to work on the side of the road.

People honked and waved, and it wasn’t long before a police car pulled up behind me.

He wanted to know what the heck I was doing so I calmly explained that I was changing my flat. He told me he could see that, but demanded to know what the heck my cardboard men were doing standing at the rear of my car.

I couldn’t believe he didn’t know! So I told him …

Well, I explained to the angry Policeman …

They’re my Emergency Flashers!!!!

Emergency Flashers

I go to court next week.

(Damn Police. No sense of humor.)

***