Every time I go grocery shopping, it’s the same damn question:
“Paper or plastic?”
Plastic’s good for putting the scooped-out clumps of kitty litter into.
But the kitties like to play in the paper bags.
In the end, I settled on paper. The baskets on my bike are large enough for one paper bag each.
The one time I got plastic, I couldn’t fit all the bags into the baskets.
With one bag dangling from my right hand, I fell and broke my left arm.
I use a plastic bag to keep the cast dry in the shower.
Tag: medical
Perfect Timing
I stuffed my arm back into its sling, walked out of the physical therapist’s office, and crossed the street to the theater.
Looper had already started, but the box office girl said there were twenty minutes of previews.
I bought a ticket, the doorman tore it in half, and he checked my bag for weapons.
“Just drugs,” I said. “Painkillers.”
There was no way I could carry my large soda and popcorn myself.
“Jeremy,” I said, reading the boy’s nametag. “Got a minute to help me to my seat?”
He carried my drink, I thanked him, and the movie began.
Open For Dinner
I wanted some chicken in my vegetables, so I pulled out a can of chicken and fumbled with the can opener in my one good hand.
I can’t close it and turn the handle at the same time.
And wishing I had an electric can opener doesn’t do squat for me right now.
So, I use the can opener to rip around the lid, taking five minutes to get it open.
Then, I poked a fork into the lid, prying it off.
And dropping the can on the floor.
Chicken… everywhere…
“Dinner,” I call to the cats, eating my vegetables.
One or Zero
The pain scale goes from zero to ten.
At zero, you feel no pain or discomfort.
At ten, that’s all you feel.
It’s not easy, coming up with an objective measure for a subjective experience like pain, but when you’re in pain, you’ll come up with a number pretty damn quick.
There were times in the hospital when I was rolling around in agony, calling for the nurse to bring me pain pills.
You don’t calmly say nine. You growl it, you whimper it, or you scream it.
Then, relief comes… slowly…
One and zero never felt so damned good.
Poker
My cat Nardo would wait until I was covered up and almost asleep before reaching out slowly and poking me in the nose.
He’s gone now, and I miss him.
For the first few days, I’d hear him jumping up on the bed, or I’d think he was about to poke me in the nose.
Nope. Just a ghost.
When I broke my arm and took very strong opiate-based painkillers, I had vivid dreams, and I hoped I’d dream him.
Nope again.
But last night, our cat Bruwyn poked me in the nose. And that’ll have to do for now.
The Tape
The nurse cut away my splint, unwrapped the bandages, and snipped out the stitches one by one.
Then she swabbed the incision before covering it with strips of tape and wrapping it with another bandage.
“You can stop wearing the bandage when the incision is healed,” she said. “The tape will fall off soon after that.”
And sure enough, the first scab-encrusted strip is coming loose right now.
I plan on putting it under my pillow for The Medical Waste Fairy.
I hope to get at least a quarter for it.
(But enough to pay my deductible would be better.)
My Battle
The hospital refuses to talk to my insurance company.
And despite cashing all up my premium checks, My insurance company refuses to talk to the hospital.
So, the bills keep arriving in the mail, with bigger numbers, printed in brighter red ink.
I throw them out, unopened.
As for the phone calls, I ask the collectors how their kids are or what they had for dinner last night.
They try to change the subject back to my medical bills.
Talk to the insurance company, I say. So, got plans for dinner?
They ask again.
I smile, laugh, and hang up.
in dreams
i’ve been taking vicodin for the pain in my broken elbow.
it causes intense dreams.
i’ve dreamed of dinosaurs and volcanoes and wars with laser guns.
and i’ve seen ghosts of so many friends long passed.
but not my boy, who died in february.
why can’t i dream of him, poking me in the nose with his paw as i try to sleep?
does he not want to see me again? why won’t he come back when i need him?
i put his yellow mouse under my pillow
just one dream.
i don’t even need to wake up from it.
Brace
I broke my elbow
One week in the hospital
One week rest
work release in hand
light duties only
welcome back
I sat down at my desk
A pillow to my left
To lay my braced left arm upon
And I wrote
And wrote
And wrote
after 7 hours work
I crawled home exhausted
took off the brace to
lay on my back on the sofa
arm on a pillow across my chest
slowly moving my wrist
and fingers
and i realized
this must be how it feels
after a long day
to take off your bra
and just breathe
Gremlins
The nurse told me that I can’t eat anything after midnight because I am having surgery early tomorrow.
But the truth is that I am a gremlin.
Feeding a gremlin after midnight turns them into an evil scaly predator that causes havoc and mayhem.
And getting a gremlin wet causes them to pop out warped clones.
I smile, close my eyes, and say “wet or dry, a sponge bath is a sponge bath.”
It’s certainly better than the food, which explains why there aren’t any evil scaly gremlins walking around causing havoc.
Or is it because visiting hours are over?