Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Things to Do on Katrina Day

  • Drive a friend to Ochsner's on Old River Road for procedure (medical euphemism for a colonoscopy).
  • While said friend is going under, run back into town to take another friend pharmacy shopping (that prescription here, this prescription there).
  • While zooming crosstown between drugstores, take call from nurse at Ochsner's, saying procedure soon to end. But we thought procedure would take three hours. "Oh, Lordy, no, la-la, only an hour-and-a-half." I must be present to remove friend from premises. Suddenly realize I don't know where premises are - I dropped him off outside. "Don't worry, we're easy to find. Take the golden elevators."
  • Huh?
  • Hustle second friend out of Walgreen's, rush him home (under the speed limit - I don't care what that camera says!).
  • Have to pee. Friend kindly offers me his bathroom. Neglects to watch car left idling on the street. Pretty orange-colored ticket waiting for me when I return (no money in the meter).
  • Meander out of city and back to Ochsner's. Park in garage, and set off on quest for golden elevators.
  • Lots of them.
  • Poor friend must be frantic, feeling abandoned, too groggy from sedative to manage a call to me, asking, "Why did you do this to me, Dimmy?" like in The Exorcist.
  • Wonder of wonders, find clinic reception area where friend has had his procedure. Friend not in sight. Uh-oh.
  • Stand in line for receptionist. Finally reach her, ask if friend is ready. "Ready? Oh, la-la, so soon? These things take time. You take a seat. We get you when he done."
  • I take a seat.
  • And wait.
  • Wait.
  • Wait.
  • Fifty minutes later, a nurse appears and calls my name. I may pass through the doors that say keep out and collect my little friend. He's fine.
  • He's hungry. Wants Mexican. Is that wise this soon? "Hungry. I want Mexican. Get Mexican now."
  • We find Mexican. We eat. I worry about lately-chronic heartburn. But food too good to push away, and Telemundo Novela on televisions in restaurant strangely engrossing.
  • Finally get friend home and make my way to mine.
  • Am feeling tired, but not like bored - tired like ... tired. It's four o'clock, too late to nap.
  • Sit up till ten, then off to bed.
  • Chest begins to burn again.
  • Not to worry, though. Have doctor's appointment next afternoon. My own.

6 comments:

  1. you are a good soul, even eating mexican for the cause! i was thinking of new orleans yesterday, and thinking how in all the irene coverage, no one was thinking much about the anniversary of katrina. take care of you, my friend. 

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  2. LOL, don't give me too much credit. I'll eat Mexican for no reason at all. (Truth be told, I conveniently left out the part about my eating his enchiladas!) As for the rest of it, I'm fine ;-)

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  3. Phew! Now I am tired. There's never a bad time for Mexican food.

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  4. Bobby's asleep - I may order for delivery ;-)

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  5. Loved the reference to Dimmy's mom in The Exorcist. Laughed out loud and made me think of my other favorite Satanic apparition: "Can't you help out an old altar boy, Father?"

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  6. Thank you, Arthur. The fact is, this friend actually uses that quote himself. He will call someone on the telephone, and when they answer, he will initiate the conversation that way and then continue as the old lady for as long as he can get away with it. There are some fascinatingly sick people in my circle.

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