Puffs

Events of the past week have turned my thoughts to things medical. First of all, I ran across a card many folks would call a “Get Well Card.” I never cared for that title, but I understood the meaning and appreciate thoughts conveyed in most of them.

However, a week or so ago, I came across the perfect card for a person who would not say they are feeling well. I enjoyed it enough that I want to pass it on here.

To wit:

“Ode to an Unwell Person”

“You’re out of sorts and feeling bad,

You’re quite the opposite of glad.

You’re Achy, groggy, dazed,

and sore,

You’re oozing germs from every

pore.

You’re in a really crappy mood,

You’re not enjoying solid food.

You’re feeling down, and throwing

up,

Face it – you are one sick pup!”

I’m hinting that in recent days we (Nancy and I) have been spending numerous days at medical offices and facilities of different kinds. Last week Thursday was the day that topped all other days.

We were told to be at the Mary Lanning hospital at 12 noon and we arrived right on time. I should have known, but didn’t appreciate the welcome we received the moment we stepped into the building. People were there to meet us. They were quick to tell us the surgeon we were to meet with had an emergency operation that just started and it would be maybe two hours or more before she would be able to be with us. We had the option to leave and find something to do for several hours, or we could stay there and wait.

Unsure of what to do or where to go, we opted to stay. Well, Nancy stayed and was admitted, but I left to do several errands. I got back within two hours and Nancy was outfitted with IV’s, tubes and other stuff along with all the machines doing their things.

And yes, the nurse did come in and say, the surgeon’s emergency operation was taking longer than expected.

So we waited, and in a couple of more hours, we were informed the operation was going well and they thought the surgeon was going to close and it wouldn’t be all that long.

So, in a couple of hours more we were told the surgeon really wasn’t ready to close that last time we heard that, but it really wasn’t going to be all that long now. At each update we were told we had the option to leave at any time.

We felt we were in that time often referred to as “in between a rock and a hard place.” We spent all that time so far, did we want to have them take out all those IV’s, only to find another time to redo them, and we’ve already spent all this time.

We opted to stay.

Sometime between 7:30 and 8:00, the surgeon showed up, apologizing for the delay.

The 20 minute procedure we thought would be over with by 1:00 was completed in about that 20 minutes and we were on the way home by 8:30 (p.m. that is)

I have to admit the visit will be one I’ll list among the most memorable of all medical ‘visits.’ It is a story of life. We hold no ill will against the surgeon, the hospital or anyone else. I mainly feel sorry for the person who the surgeon had operated on. To me that was one long surgery.

But then, I did learn the chance to practice a little patience comes up at the strangest times. And . . . . I did get a lot of reading in my current book accomplished.

But then again . . . Eight and one-half hours to a 20 minute procedure.

Looking at the “light” side of the afternoon and evening, however, the following took place. One of the nurses early in the day happened to have the last name of Stritt.

Gosh, a name out of my genealogy. She married a gentleman by the name of Stritt with roots in the Indianola, Nebraska area. A cousin by marriage.

Then a worker from the “lab” drew blood. When he learned we were from Lawrence, he had to know name and information. “Why?” Because his partner in the lab was Sherri Himmelberg and whenever someone from Lawrence came through, she wanted to know who it was.

Thirdly . . . finally in the operating room, one of the nurses introduced herself as a neighbor of Joyce Ostdiek of Blue Hill. Did we know Joyce? And, of course we knew sister-in-law, Joyce.

Finally, on Monday . . . yes, we’re back at the hospital (for another test) and we run smack into Christy Hubl Kurchner.

I hope passing on a few of our medical stories, doesn’t make you sick. Don’t worry, be happy . . .

A O

I’m not sure of the source of the following little story, but I did enjoy it and want to pass it on. Too often in this day and age humor is overlooked or some politician tries to make humor into a political statement of some kind. I just enjoy it as it is, and hope you do the same.

“One morning a husband returns to the cabin after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap.

Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out, since it is such a beautiful day. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book.

Along comes a game warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says,” Good morning, Ma’am, what are you doing?”

“Reading a book,” she replies, (thinking, “Isn’t that obvious?”)

“You’re in a Restricted Fishing Area,” he informs her.

“I’m sorry, officer, but I’m not fishing, I’m reading.”

“Yes, but you have all the equipment. I’ll have to write you up a ticket.”

“For reading a book?” she replies.

“You’re in a Restricted Fishing Area,” he informs her again.

“But officer, I’m not fishing, I’m reading.”

“Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I’ll have to write you up a ticket and you’ll have to pay a fine.”

“If you do that, I’ll have to charge you with sexual assault,” says the woman.

“But I haven’t even touched you,” says the game warden.

“That’s true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment.”

“Have a nice day ma’am,” and he immediately departed.

Moral: Never argue with a woman who reads. It’s likely she can also think.

Sure God created man before woman. But then you always make a rough draft before the final masterpiece!

A O

I did my best this week to stay away from politics. We still have three months (well, almost three months) to go before the elections and there is plenty of time for that.

Don’t worry, be happy.

A O