THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S 15 ================================================================= THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S -- The Continued Saga of Paul Ess's Rehabilitation ================================================================= "Is Paul here?" "Yes, but I am giving him a bed bath right now" The door was opened without knocking. The curtain between me and my caretaker was opened for a good look. "You'll have to come back when I'm done with him!" "Oh. Uh. Okay." They're here just in time to start off episode 15. Did you unannounced visitors enjoy beholding my groganpasty butt? I keep praying for cheese to tighten me up. That was Ronny from The ERR. He's here with another staff member delivering some new tards to St Timmy's. Dragon Lady is cleaning house again. She got rid of me and now she's going to get rid of some other old fools who don't fit her exacting standards of: (1) Eat what we give you, swill though it be (2) Shut up (3) Get up when we roll you over, clean your butt, and stick you upright in a tardchair[tm] (4) Shut up (5) Like it when we haul your ass back to bed (6) Shut up (7) Don't bitch when we stick hoses in you wherever we damn please (8) Shut up (9) Holler in your senility all you like cuz we won't pay any attention (10) Shut up (11) Pay your bill your damn self when we piss off your insurance company (12) Shut up (13) Don't talk to the state inspectors (14) Shut up (15) When media is here, say how nice we are (16) Shut up (17) Smile when we say stupid things to you (18) Above all, SHUT THE FUCK UP! Among the new people we got stuck with are none other than The Buzzard. Buzzard is the one who calls everybody and everything sonofabitch. Miss Ralph came by to talk to me today and I told "her" about Buzzard. Ralph said Buzzard looked at him with his one eye and said, "Oh, I see the devil is here!" That's a new one. I didn't know Buzzard had got a sense of humor over at the other place. My Glub, next thing you know he'll get a clue! I went to the adjoining room where we have Bobby, the one who used to live in a rapid transit station and who got beat up when somebody who didn't like his looks had an extra bad day. Miss Stephanie at The ERR was accused of hanky-panky when Bobby pulled out his diapers, balled them up and threw them on the floor, proclaiming them to be his babies by Miss Stephanie. Now, if Miss Stephanie is involved in this procreation, howcome "she" isn't the one giving birth? Oh, don't tell me: Miss Stephanie doesn't wear the diapers that magically become babies! Perfectly logical. (You don't get it? Then you belong in here.) We also inherited Mr Salazar who used to sing tardly grand opera all night and a lot of the day in his senility. He's just as bad as he always was and will keep half this wing awake tonight, wait and see. He's more distant than the groaner next door, but between the two of them I may want to keep the buzzing relay in the wall going instead of having it fixed. Mrs Salazar is glad to have him out of The ERR because ERR let him get monster bedsores. They also didn't do anything about having a dentist come in to treat an aching tooth. In his 80s, the old boy has most if not all his permanent teeth -- amazing what corn and beans with do for you. The occupational therapist saw me today and will get in touch with Cruel Cross and MediCal to see who will pay for what. All I need is equipment adjustments and some hints from Hellawheeze on how to slide to and from bed, the pot, and a car. Can I just pay you $50 and we skip all the bureaucratic bullshit? Didn't I tell you it all comes down to money? To Hell with public service and Doing the Right Thing. Like they aren't paid well enough to help me along here with the $90-some dollars a DAY they bang the state. Let's face it, the OT's salary goes on whether she does anything or we pay additional or not. This tardfarm industry is a racket and that's why I want to rip it a new asshole. Danny in the internet said it best when he warned, Look out for what grandma is in for. Our noontime Social Dining Program continues. We're up to seven participants including one who can't make up her mind (a) to get up before noon, (b) eat in her room, or do a logical AND, or do a logical OR. If that doesn't make any sense, then you understand why _she_ doesn't either. The table I sit at is too high. It is adjustable and somebody jacked it sky high. I was ranting about how I could just put my lip on the edge and scrape my tray contents right into my maw. They thought I was being funny. The CNA who attends us "axes" each of us to tell her what her name is. I guess she keeps forgetting or something. Maybe she should be in here too. She hands us the contents of our trays. I think its sooooo sweet to have a thumbprint in my gnashed potato and my pick and shovel dropped on a table cloth which hasn't seen washing in Glub knows how long. The administrator comes in every other day or so to fuss and coo and ask us if we are having a good time. We'd have a better time if we were left to speak quietly to whomever we might have something relevant to say. Most of us just want to survey the trough, eat the least objectionable items, and go back to netting or contemplating our gall bladder scar. I went to the dining room to have dinner tonight so I could check out the old ladies again. Junior sat across from me. Junior runs his wheelchair backward until he crashes into something and/or gets cussed. He eats everything with a spoon. He eats ice cream alternately with string beans and macaroni-cheese. He eats macaroni-cheese, ice cream, and part of my fruit cocktail. Touch my coffee and you're a dead little tard... For dessert I had a Hershey bar washed down with black coffee. This would have worked better had the coffee been stronger, but it was much better than more diced peach bits. Some LOL across the room began wobbling back and forth in her wheelchair. It's a good thing they had a Posey belt around her middle or she would have taken off. The CNA feeding her by the spoonful asked what was the matter. The old girl choked out she was going to "vomick". O Joy! -- O Bliss! -- My first mealtime chunder! -- BBBLLLOOOOOOGHGHGHGHGHGHAAA! Her Tooflessless is on a "mechanical soft" [ground-up] diet, so the stuff looked about the same coming back with the addition of the milk. It covered her tray and got a good bit of the table as well. Her tablemates sat there without going EWWWWW, which is more than you can expect of today's children. Miss Potty Mouth was attracted by the commotion and pronounced, "Oooooh. Her throw up!" Miss PM made a move on the old girl's coffee. Yesterday Miss PM got scolded for getting into the re-racked meal trays for the leftover coffee mugs. She drinks a dozen or more cups a day but we never see her go pee. =================================================================