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For the love of all that is F@!^$/#! holy!
11 years ago
Ok,
Well back in this meat locker they call a hospital.
First my room was to hot. I asked them to turn the temperature down.
Then this cascade of intrepid morons turn the AC up to the point I felt like I was freezing my fuzzy dice off. So, what do I do?
"Ms.? Could you turn the temperature up just a bit?"
"Sure"
This should make me happy. Right?
Fuck no!
The nurse turned the heat up so fucking high. I feel like Kentucky Fried Gryphon's original fucking recipe!
Next day, here I am sweltering my balls off. And the doctor walks in. The first words out of his mouth and I shit you not:
"Gee golly, It's hot in here, how did you sleep last night like this?"
My only reaction was to sit up and look at him in a dead pan glare and simply say.
I DIDN'T YOU FUCKING WARD CLEAVER WANNA BE! NOW KINDLY TURN THE TERMOSTATE TO 68 DEGREES. AND GET OUT OF HERE FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR UNTIL I HAVE REHYDTATED AND I AM IN CLEAN FUCKING SHEETS BEFORE I MURDER YOU WITH A BED PAN!
.... hospital staff's reaction?
shot of morphine and a heavy dose of medication.
I wake up a few hours later, food sitting on a table next to me. My gown has been changed. My sheets have been changed. And I am clean.
.................. what the hell?! Is this what it takes to get through to these people?
Ok. A few hours go by and I am watching tv. MY doctor walks in looks at me. Shakes his head and says and I quote.
"A bit grumpy when we woke up?"
My reply?
"When you woke up maybe. And unless you have been sneaking naps in my room while I was drugged beyond oblivion. I didn't sleep last night."
To which I regaled him with the tale of the night before.
He nodded for a moment. Shook his head and asked:
"Ready for another test?"
(To which and I think this was the drugs talking)
"Shit! And I forgot to study!"
Me and my bed were wheeled into a room where I was hooked up to more monitors and other various things that go "beep and ping"
The doctor put what looked like a mouth piece for boxers in my mouth and told me that if I felt any discomfort to let him know immediately. I shook my head to say ok.
At this point he stood behind 4 inches of glass while a surgeon came in and numbed the bottom of my foot. I had to be awake for this as they placed a metal plate on the bottom of my foot and gave me a small metal rod to hold in my left hand.
I heard the doctor count down from 30. During which time I am thinking... wait... why didn't they numb my hand?!
Too late. They fucking electrocute me!
So it is a lie. Fat men can jump!... with enough voltage running through me I could have sailed my happy ass to the moon and back. (Jesus fucking purple waffle eating Christ that hurt)
I spit out the mouth piece and "What the fuck are you doing?!"
He told me I had been told about the test and agreed to it...
Ok. I may have been pretty drugged up. But when the fuck was this?
Now my hamd hurts. I feel like I kist pissed myself and to top it all off. I still have 7 more of these to go!?
Each shock carried with it a new and more creative string of obscenities.
By the time all was said and done. There I am, being wheeled back to my room. Drugged out of my ever living mind. (Apparently I tried to punch one of the male nurses... and succeeded)
My breakfast is cold. Lunch is waiting for me. And as they move me to a clean bed, my doctor makes a note in his book. Looks at me and says "Get some reat, we have more tests tomorrow."
"Oh good! You are gonna do them with me then?!"
He smiled. Shook his head. And walked out of the room commenting how he can see why I am a comedian. "Cause this guy is a funny one."
Fast forward. After some blood tests and other tests that shall remain un named for the sake of my dignity. I sit here and I have come to a sad realization.
I now know why people come here and die.
If the tests, and the nurses and doctors don't kill you. The fucking boredom will! I can't wait to get the hell out of here and just go veg on my couch killing zombies and preping for my show at The Gateway Fur Meet convention.
So drop me a line. Maybe I will insert this into my pod cast when I get the hell out of here. Or talk about it in my show. Who knows.
Well back in this meat locker they call a hospital.
First my room was to hot. I asked them to turn the temperature down.
Then this cascade of intrepid morons turn the AC up to the point I felt like I was freezing my fuzzy dice off. So, what do I do?
"Ms.? Could you turn the temperature up just a bit?"
"Sure"
This should make me happy. Right?
Fuck no!
The nurse turned the heat up so fucking high. I feel like Kentucky Fried Gryphon's original fucking recipe!
Next day, here I am sweltering my balls off. And the doctor walks in. The first words out of his mouth and I shit you not:
"Gee golly, It's hot in here, how did you sleep last night like this?"
My only reaction was to sit up and look at him in a dead pan glare and simply say.
I DIDN'T YOU FUCKING WARD CLEAVER WANNA BE! NOW KINDLY TURN THE TERMOSTATE TO 68 DEGREES. AND GET OUT OF HERE FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR UNTIL I HAVE REHYDTATED AND I AM IN CLEAN FUCKING SHEETS BEFORE I MURDER YOU WITH A BED PAN!
.... hospital staff's reaction?
shot of morphine and a heavy dose of medication.
I wake up a few hours later, food sitting on a table next to me. My gown has been changed. My sheets have been changed. And I am clean.
.................. what the hell?! Is this what it takes to get through to these people?
Ok. A few hours go by and I am watching tv. MY doctor walks in looks at me. Shakes his head and says and I quote.
"A bit grumpy when we woke up?"
My reply?
"When you woke up maybe. And unless you have been sneaking naps in my room while I was drugged beyond oblivion. I didn't sleep last night."
To which I regaled him with the tale of the night before.
He nodded for a moment. Shook his head and asked:
"Ready for another test?"
(To which and I think this was the drugs talking)
"Shit! And I forgot to study!"
Me and my bed were wheeled into a room where I was hooked up to more monitors and other various things that go "beep and ping"
The doctor put what looked like a mouth piece for boxers in my mouth and told me that if I felt any discomfort to let him know immediately. I shook my head to say ok.
At this point he stood behind 4 inches of glass while a surgeon came in and numbed the bottom of my foot. I had to be awake for this as they placed a metal plate on the bottom of my foot and gave me a small metal rod to hold in my left hand.
I heard the doctor count down from 30. During which time I am thinking... wait... why didn't they numb my hand?!
Too late. They fucking electrocute me!
So it is a lie. Fat men can jump!... with enough voltage running through me I could have sailed my happy ass to the moon and back. (Jesus fucking purple waffle eating Christ that hurt)
I spit out the mouth piece and "What the fuck are you doing?!"
He told me I had been told about the test and agreed to it...
Ok. I may have been pretty drugged up. But when the fuck was this?
Now my hamd hurts. I feel like I kist pissed myself and to top it all off. I still have 7 more of these to go!?
Each shock carried with it a new and more creative string of obscenities.
By the time all was said and done. There I am, being wheeled back to my room. Drugged out of my ever living mind. (Apparently I tried to punch one of the male nurses... and succeeded)
My breakfast is cold. Lunch is waiting for me. And as they move me to a clean bed, my doctor makes a note in his book. Looks at me and says "Get some reat, we have more tests tomorrow."
"Oh good! You are gonna do them with me then?!"
He smiled. Shook his head. And walked out of the room commenting how he can see why I am a comedian. "Cause this guy is a funny one."
Fast forward. After some blood tests and other tests that shall remain un named for the sake of my dignity. I sit here and I have come to a sad realization.
I now know why people come here and die.
If the tests, and the nurses and doctors don't kill you. The fucking boredom will! I can't wait to get the hell out of here and just go veg on my couch killing zombies and preping for my show at The Gateway Fur Meet convention.
So drop me a line. Maybe I will insert this into my pod cast when I get the hell out of here. Or talk about it in my show. Who knows.
Now to just figure out how to clone myself so I can get out of here.