Dispatches from the Welland County General Hospital: Day Three

Nurses in Sheeps’ Clothing

Doctor Kalvorkliancookie dropped by this morning. He has not scheduled a colonoscopy. He says there is no hurry for that. For now they’re mainly interested in tracking my haemoglobin to see if I will stabilize. This involves jabbing me for blood every few hours which is a shitload of fun, obviously. It’s a different nurse every time. They started with the ones who are good at it and now I get the ones who poke me with a finger for ten minutes then sigh and then chew through my arm like a wolf.



Interlude #2

When I get out of here I’m going straight to the freaking Keg. I will be facing financial ruin for missing my security shifts and having no benefits but I don’t care. I’m getting the New York Peppercorn - no, fuck that. I’m getting TWO New York peppercorn steaks with enough peppercorn shards to make my gums bleed. And garlic mash obviously, and asparagus and those stringy fried onions. And red wine. And more red wine. And no one’s going to stop me. Just try if you want. Just try to stop me and see if I don’t bite your delicious tender hand off.



Excerpt from Email to the Liberal Theologian

The news here: There is no diagnosis (diverticulosis suspected). G.I. tract looks good. Transfusion possible. I'm here until Monday at least. I haven't had food or drink in what seems like forever and there is none in my immediate future. Trying not to lose my marbles over that but some poor cow somewhere is at risk of being swallowed whole if I ever get out of here. Okay. I need to think about something else.



Interlude #3

I think I could eat a human head. I think if I had a whole lot of barbecue sauce - I mean a real whole lot - I think I could eat a human head.



It’s the Thought That Counts

My excellent friend Tom visited again today. I think one visitor per day is perfect. I’m glad this happened to me in Welland and not Hamilton. In Hamilton there would have been a parade of visitors and I honestly can’t think of anything more dreary than explaining your icky medical details to people over and over and over again until you‘re hoarse. I am grateful for the near solitude.

Tom took my car from the medical clinic to his place where it will be safe (and put my windows up for me!) and then brought me the books and DVD’s from the back seat. He didn’t notice that the books were all the same title (I had just received them back from members of the young readers club) but that’s okay!



Interlude #4

Do you think a man could eat a plastic bucket?

Or a telephone?

If he had enough BBQ sauce?