Grown Man in a Clown Gown.

A hospital stay is just the best, isn’t it? Who craves a 5 star resort in Cancun when you can stay in a shared giant room with sheets for walls, screaming neighbors and nurses buzzing around like flies on a fresh corpse? Not this ol’ boy.

It’s actually not that bad, once I allowed myself the realization that leaving was not an option. They’ve segregated me away from the other recoverers and gifted this guy with a portable dvd player and a stack of movies from the early 2000’s so who’s to complain? Not this young clydesdale.

Inside these prison walls dwells the inherent desire to make one well and send them on their way without a code blue warning being announced and I can dig that. It’s invasive. The nursing staff persuasive. These cords, considered abrasive. Yet.. this is my kingdom, if but for one night.

Just ask my ladyfriend Alexx who just left after some good conversation, 4 laps around the wing, a snack of chocolate and a few rounds of cards. Meanwhile, my nurse continually asks if I need more popsicles, or any food. She’ll enquire do I need a drink or maybe a bigger bed? Of course I say yes to all of the above, as though my appeasing her graciousness affords her a sense of well-being and why not? She’s a fantastic nurse and I have been blessed tonight.


After all that pampering, the night turned lame. Each time I’d doze off, my o2 level of course would dip below the magical 90 so the nurse would wake me up. Carry on for 2 hours. Then we switch from the nose tubes to the CPAP and repeat for 2 hrs, wake, doze, wake. 4 o’clock I convince her to let me sleep and she does. Til 6. Then til 730 and the morning crew is back on.

Waiting for the anesthesiologist to see me on her way out to give me the go home today message, and waiting for breakfast to book mark this silly stay.


As William Wallace aka Melvin Gibson once screamed, “Freedom!” Only difference would be he was taking his final breath and I am not. I would rate this stay a solid 3 out of 5. 2.9 for the royal treatment last night, .1 for the food and zeros for keeping me here (though I forgive you, Nurse Ratched). IV drop.

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