Emergency

Randy Mantooth, star of Emergency

Mark was feeling under the weather last week so he called his doctor. He was informed that the doctor was on vacation, but somebody else would call him back. This was at nine thirty in the morning. At four in the afternoon nobody had called back and Mark seemed to be in some difficulty. So I asked, "911 or do I take you to the emergency room?" It was decide that I would drive Mark to the emergency room at the hospital where his doctor worked. They would have all his records there including his insurance information. We walked into the ER at four, forty five. After a short wait the triage nurse called Mark into a room and took his story down along with his vitals. So far, so good. Then while we were in there I could hear one of the nurses in the ER waiting room announce, "As of right now there is a four hour and forty minute wait to see a doctor." I guess I am not used to big city emergency rooms, I had never had the need to go to one before. All my experiences were in small cities, in small hospitals.

"Mark, did you hear that? Four hours and forty minutes. Are you sure you want to continue with this?"

Before he could answer the nurse assured us that, "I'm putting you on the fast track. You won't have to wait that long."

So we stayed. Two hours in, I asked the nurse if Mark would be seen soon. She looked at the computer screen and said, "He's moving up." Which is not an answer. Two and a half hours into it and I asked the nurse if there was someplace I could get some water.

"Is that for a patient?"

"Why, does that make a difference?" I turned to Mark and asked if he was thirsty.

"I'll ask his nurse if he can have water."

"Okay, then where can I get some water?

There was no water source in the waiting room, no food machine, nothing. The woman looked confused, so I just turned and walked away.

Three hours had gone by and the waiting room had filled up, then almost emptied, then filled up again. I was tired, thirsty, and hungry. That's when a woman in one of those Hoveround electric carts rolled in. Electric cart is not really what it was, more like an Earth mover because she had to have weighed at least six hundred pounds. I am not exaggerating. The lobe of fat hanging off her right knee was bigger around than Mark's waist, and she had three of those huge fat globules hanging there. Her electric cart groaned under the weight as she zipped around and parked directly across from me. She was wearing short, shorts, so tight... well let's not go there. Her top was also skin tight. I leaned over to Mark and whispered, "How did she get those shorts on?" Mark pretended not to hear me. She then started honking like a wounded wildebeest and coughing. What was she unleashing in that spray? After fifteen minutes of this a nurse came over and put a mask on her. Now, I tried to be nice. I tried not to stare and I tried to pretend that the elephant in the room was not parked directly in my line of sight. But those shorts, they were really short, and tight. Happily, one of the nurses came over and threw a blanket over her just before they called Mark's name. Four hours to see a doctor. So much for that fast track the triage nurse had promised.

They couldn't find anything wrong with Mark that hadn't been wrong before, and all the tests came up negative, but they wanted to admit him to the hospital anyway. Possibly because he has good insurance. Very good insurance. So I said goodnight to Mark and left him there. It was now ten at night and I hadn't had anything to drink or eat since lunch. Next time I'll probably call an ambulance. I hear that if you arrive by ambulance they put you on the fast track.

Size Queen

There is a house across the street from us with the biggest television I have ever seen. Their television covers an entire wall. From my living room I can see clearly what they are watching, and mostly it's soccer. They do watch other things from time to time. Baseball, and even American Football. Notice the theme there? Sports, lots of sports. Well, now we are that house. Mark went and bought a new television for the living room. I kept telling him that we do not need a new television, and he kept telling me that he wanted one. His big excuse for buying one right now was, "The tariffs. You watch, the prices are going to go through the roof for televisions. The one I want has already gone up ninety dollars." So Mark feels that he has saved some money. He didn't. He spent money he did not need to spend. Seriously, if that Sony Trinitron hadn't conked out in the 1980s, I would still have that thing. I just don't understand this need to have the latest and greatest. Anyway, the thing has arrived and Mark expects me to set it up. I told him that he'll need to get rid of one of his bookcases full of cook books. He said to just put it in front of them, which I will do. We will have to have it tuned to sports all the time though. For the people across Peterson Avenue eating at Wolfie's. They'll have a clear view of it from there.

Plane Fun

When I bought this house it was in early April. There were still snow squalls and a bit of cold weather. So being fresh from Florida, I didn't spend much time outside the place when we looked at it. I had no idea it was right under the O'Hare landing path. In fact there was no reason I would even have thought of that since O'Hare was a good two hour drive from the West Ridge neighborhood. It turns out that it's only nine miles by air. Now in our third summer, I've come to enjoy the planes roaring overhead. You're sitting outside having a nice conversation, and every twenty to thirty seconds everything has to stop while the jet whines by. It gives you a chance to think about what you're going to say. Saved me from more than a few stupid remarks. Chandler seems to enjoy the planes. If they come in too low he jumps up and tries to catch them, barking his ass off the whole time. He has actually taught Scout to look up and bark too. My friend, Dennis, bought an app for his phone that tells you what flight each plane is and where it came from. All he has to do is aim his phone at the plane and it tells him all that information. So we often sit out in the back yard in the summer, talking in twenty second spurts, identifying airline flights, and watching the dogs go berserk. Summer in the city, aint it fun?

Pop Goes The Weasel

Every morning for the last month, I've come out into the back yard to find the place covered in purple stains. Dripping down the lounge chairs, splattered upon the large sun umbrella, and generally coating most everything. It seems that the mulberry tree next door has been producing lots of mulberries, and the birds love them. Apparently mulberries don't stay in the bird's digestive tract for too long. In a little circle around the dog's water bowl are purple bird droppings because the birds like to drink the dog water. The dogs don't seem to mind. Mulberries aren't the only thing the birds like. They like my golden raspberry bush too. Sweet and juicy, tender and ripe, every evening and every morning I walk out into the back yard and find the raspberry bush full of birds. It's as if I planted the whole yard just for the wild life. Which I did. Don't tell Mark, but I'm glad the birds have found the fruits of my labor delicious. Over in the flower beds a few rabbits have found the eating good. And most of all, my dogs love the tomatoes. As of today, I have eaten about two dozen golden raspberries, a couple of cherry tomatoes, and one cucumber. Everything else has been eaten up by the animals. I'm not sure when they are going to become ripe, but against the garage is a large grapevine hanging heavy with little bunches of grapelings. I've been told that skunks like to eat grapes, so there will be a race to get them off the vine.

My Review of Poo-Pourri

I was very skeptical about this product when Mark told me about it. I tried to explain to him that he was wasting his money. How could a little spritz of this stuff kill the odor of man poo? Especially considering the things we eat. I told him about the deadly five inches, that space in the air between the cheeks and the water below. During the drop, before it splashes down, odors are coming off the offending waste. And then there is the fact that it doesn't always 'splash down'. Sometimes it lands on the porcelain and lays there like a beached whale. No way is Poo-Pourri going to take care of that smell. Anyway, despite my objections, Mark bought some. It isn't cheap and I considered it to be flushing money down the toilet. I now admit, I was wrong. It really works. Mark instructed me to spritz the spritzer four times into the bowl before using the toilet for number two. (I cheat and only do it twice because I think they want you to use it up quickly.) Poo-Pourri has a nice citrusy smell and that is all you smell. It really kills all the other odors. Another added plus I noticed is that a vapor rises from the bowl and sends a nice mentholated mist to your anus. It is very refreshing, especially in the morning. Kind of helps wake you up. My only complaint about Poo-Pourri is stopping to spritz the stuff in the toilet when the urge to go is strong and I don't think I will make it in time.