THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S 17 ================================================================= THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S -- The Continued Saga of Paul Ess's Rehabilitation ================================================================= Here we go with episode 17. Already?! Yup. Well, we don't have The Groaner anymore. This is the guy next door who lies there going, "AAAAAUUUUUHHHHHRRRRRHHHHHUUUUUAAAAA" over and over til I shut the door to the corridor and both the toilet room doors between our rooms to try to get a little peace. Sometimes his roomie who, they tell me, is aware, joins in. I have to confess I have been known to join in. There is something primevally satisfying about a good groan, much as there is about a good grunt. I heard some clatter going on in the next room, but I didn't pay attention to it because I was busy netting. When I logged off I opened the door and looked out to see two of the humpiest paramedics ever. Boys! Oh, BOYS! -- Here, boys! Heal me right NOW! The only cure for me is a double hot beef injection! One said something to the other about telling the charge nurse to call the mortuary. They picked up all their gear from all around the room (much bending over and flexing of divine buttcheeks), piled it on the gurney, and took off. I didn't want to be a whore about it, but I did want to have a look. I came back in my room and closed the door. They'd closed the door to The Groaner's room. I went through to his room via the toilet room and had a good long stare. The old bag-o-bones was lying on the floor where they apparently had placed him to try to revive him. He was semi-covered with a sheet. His roomie was in bed asleep and therefore unaware of me. I reached down to lift the sheet and check out the corpse. I guess it takes a while for you to turn blue and all that theatrical shit. Groaner didn't look too healthy, but then he never did. His eyes were at half mast and his jaw was hanging open as usual. He still had his pissbag attached and I could smell a minor whiff of groganpaste so I figured his starfish had flopped open as well. So much for the excitement. Queen Bee bid me enter her chambers. We gabbed a bit. She said she was going to go to the Bible study they have in the fireplace room up front. She still had a mile and a half to go on her thousand-millimeter More though. So she smoked and told me about the new guy down the hall who is young and polite. These are two things Bee likes in men. Actually, anything under 60 is young to her. I'd already introduced myself to John on my way to Social Dining this noon. He's a double amputee below the knee. Sooner or later we will compare notes on what happened to us. You'll be the first to know if Bee doesn't pump him first. I decided I preferred Bingo to Bible, so I headed for the dining room. The activity lady who's in on weekends is so used to calling Bingo numbers she just does a lot of it out of her head and catches up with the board later. I won a cherry pie. Everybody won a cherry pie. I've already chowed down on Fritos today so I'd better wait with the pie. It's better to do a four o'clock bleed and have a lower BG than to eat like a hog and show over 200. Ming the Merciful might get shook and put me back on the needle. While we were doing our second blackout game, the old lady next to me started drooling uncharacteristically and was not really paying attention. Then I noticed her lower lip was protruding, but some of the folks around here just do that. Then her lip started getting purple-like, and so did her hands. She wasn't breathing. The old lady next to her got a load of this and started screaming Help. I was going to be quiet and observe the pattern. Soon nurses were running in and wheeling her Glub knows where. Father Charles is going to run our census down so far this place won't turn a profit the month of June! More on John. I was sitting in the hall this morning when he rang for nurseypoo. He asked for two "blue sheets" and some KY Jelly. Anytime someone says KY I just squirm a little. I thought he was going to do a good wank, and here I am ready to give a good man a hand. Nurseypoo didn't understand what he wanted and/or what he was going to do. From what I could hear (not much), he was going to dig around for some groganage. It had to be that or replace his own urinary catheter. Apparently he has some kind of lowdown (in more ways than one) nerve damage. I suspect he lost his feets and got a low back injury in some kind of crash. It _does_ come in threes! Some old coot on the other wing bought the farm early this morning. He's related to George by marriage. I've met the family though we didn't really pay too much attention to each other. Bee is friendly with them. They came in at noon today when Social Dining was whirling and told George the old man bit it. George broke down right in the middle of his pot roast. Jesus, can't these people pick a time and place? All together now: How tasteless! I gave George some space this afternoon so he could just be alone. Aloneness is hard-won in a place like this. I got some copies made to send to the agent at one of the tardvillas[tm] I applied to for housing. I must have worked my little ass to the top of one of their piles cuz they want to contact my old landlord and see if I threw wild parties. Miss Kooky reminded me in email this morning that I would have two mom&pops and a great big Walgreens to haunt on my block if I move to that particular one. There is also a monster record store nearby and a bank branch where, after a one and a half year absence I may again worship at the Wayside Shrine of Our Lady of the Greenbacks, namely an ATM. I had my first occupational therapy session at this place this morning. Now _here's_ a chick who knows what she's doing. This one's a real girl, not a fake girly-girl like that FAGGOT at the other place. It was great to find out I could slide to and from the mat/bedthang in the exercise room with no trouble just like old times. I got a chance to sniff my tardchair cushion to see if I really did pee on it that time. Nope. Mr Cheez will be disappointed. Thursday we will lower my bed and try going to and from that. After I learn this little skill (should be as simple as the mat thang) we go for the porcelain goddess. I have a bunch of new exercises to do, but I plan to do twice as many reps and to do them twice a day. You could call it sweatin' wif da oldies... One thing, in these places they won't push you to get better. You might get well and leave. =================================================================