THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S 9 ================================================================= THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S -- The Continued Saga of Paul Ess's Rehabilitation ================================================================= "Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou Goddammit YesIdo YesIdo YesIdo YesIdo YesIdo YesIdo YesIdo..." Birdie, aka Goddammit Lady, gets all excited when I wheel by her tard chair to see her. This is episode 9 in my rant about being shuffled from one tardfarm[tm] to another. This morning they came and put an air mattress on my bed. This big, soft squishy thing will make it impossible for me to move around in bed, let alone slideboard my ass out of it into my wheelchair. I hear the occupational therapist is on leave until next Wednesday when we should be able to get it together and get to sliding off and on toilets and in and out of bed. If the air mattress isn't out of here by two o'clock this afternoon, some folks around here are going to hear my mouth. George's wife came to see him yesterday. She spent most of the day with him. I would like to think she took him to her/their house and gave him some hot, steaming TLC. I doubt even a stroke will keep a good Italian down... After she left he sure was in a good mood. The hot weather we've been having the past week caused me to tank up on water. Last night my bod decided to let go of some of its reserves. I had to ring to have my jug emptied three times in the night. George would wake up each time the light came on but he didn't growl JesusChrist JesusChrist at me like he did over a lot less the night before. The woman he hangs out with all the time that lives here got all kinds of bent out of shape. She stayed in her room and pouted all day. She didn't even come out for supervised smoking around seven yesterday evening. Somebody told me George and his wife are separated. Glub deliver me from love triangles. Evilene snagged me as I was leaving my room to go to dinner. She asked most piteously (she's really good at that) if I would call her friend in Manteca and ask the friend to bring her-- Diet 7Up diet cookies unsalted crackers diet chewing gum diet candy Okay, Miss Piggy, I can see you there just stuffing that great toofless maw of yours with stick after stick of gum you can't possibly chew. How much would you like to bet her friend is a big fat pig, too? If you know Spanish, you know the town's name means 'lard'... Around here we laugh about that as much as we do about how the town of Chico is the Velveeta capital of Californica. Mizz Evilene, You's on a fluid restriction cuz you was a bad dirl for too many years and let your diabetes rot your kidneys so you have to be dialyzed to keep your rotten self in your saggy-baggy fat body. You need simple carbos in crackers like you need free sugar. Not. You might get away gorging on dietetic candy and cookies if the fat content and/or the sorbitol don't get you first. High fat foods can be worse for us diabetics than some simple sugar. Sorbitol can give you the serious liquishits -- which would be fun to watch what with the trouble you have getting nurseypoo to bring you a bedpan. I'm sure nurseypoo would just love to deal with the aftermath of that great double powdered- donut ass of yours spewing chocolate syrup into the cold, hard metal pan. Nurseypoo could lose her arm setting that pot under you if you lie back too soon, you squealing hog. Excuse me. I got carried away. Self-absorption bores and infuriates me unless I am the one doing it. Even though I am just as saggy-baggy as she is and somewhat less fat and have a few more teef left, I consider it my province to rag about her for her defects. Call it hypocrisy; it is a tasteless trait to cultivate. Some of the nurses here refer to her as Raglady because she complains and whines so much. I have learned much by observing her technique... I called her friend Collect and gave the message. The friend said she could come two days from now but she needed to be sure Sally could have all this crap. I gave the number to the RN on the desk who called the friend and assured her that Miss Piggy could have the stuff. Wonderful. I thought she might share the bounty. Hell, no. She moved out this afternoon against medical advice. Don't think for a second any of the nurses care...! For dinner we had what was billed Beef Pot Pie. Nooooo. Sorry. This was Dogfood en Croute. Nooooo. This was beyond dogfood. I don't think even Swan's dawg Delsie would eat this crap and Delsie will eat twice-digested pepperoni and mushrooms. Something must have been wrong with it because this morning I never saw so many CNAs crowding the Hooper Room washing the shitolas off of bedpads and asswrappers. We don't use disposables here, as a rule. Everything polluted gets the crud washed off and goes to the laundry. There must have been a whole lot of it today because the head nurse (no kneepads) was on the PA saying do not flush any toilets. The sewer backed up in the laundry room. That must've been cute. And I had to pick today to sleep in! If only I had my SLR and a fresh roll I might have gotten some good GIF material. This afternoon we played Bingo in the lunchroom/dininghall. Some folks from the local Catholic parish come in to run it on Sundays. They give cosmetic samples and such as little prizes. Otis sat opposite me. He's a sweet old black man who couldn't find his Bingo numbers if he had to, so we all helped him out. He skunked me and Queen Bee. I must learn to stop being nice to people. I did come away with some perfectly useless shaving gel made for females to shave whatever it is they shave. I'll give it to George. He will think it's neat and won't know the difference. Anyone who can shave with these cheap-ass disposable razors without screaming is pretty insensitive. I scrape it off with a Norelco rechargeable or take my carotid into my own hands with a Centurion straight razor -- you know, the same one I sweetened up McDouche with. =================================================================