hospital thoughts

I've been at the hospital for over five years and apparently have had a myspace account for just as long.

Today, I revisited my blog posts over there
brought back some memories

Here you go (they get better towards the end):



Wednesday, September 06, 2006

indonesia

He walked towards me ten minutes till I was to escape my late night shift. His eyes were red and big and his hands trembled as he approached the counter, a full sandwich put together looking very good, a bottle of soda, a candy bar and a piece of pizza. He hiccupped. I assisted him with weighing the sandwich judging he was exhausted and apparently disoriented as he handed me his candy bar to pay for his total of seven dollars. No, that one is for you, he pulled out his wallet and told me and the women waiting behind him he couldn't believe it, he had dozed off in the lobby and woke up eight hours later and his wallet was still there on his lap and so was his money, that's Portland for you, very cool. A stack of cards and slips of paper and maybe some money hidden in the bunch, no I watched him carefully go through each slip checking for his money. I spotted currency, foreign, where is it from? But I saw the last half of the word Indonesia 1000. I received it the day before the Tsunami, I don't know how, I thought it would bring me good luck. I saw no sign of other bills. Are you sure no one took your money. oh I am sure, the first thing I checked when I woke up, I know I have it I better have it; 400 dollars worth. His hiccupps were worsening, I thought his heart just might jump out, his hands quivered as he checked all of his pockets and his socks and his medicine bottle, I just can't do this right now, his little strength had dwindled to mere desperation. How about you sit down right here, take your time, look through your wallet and your food will be right here. I helped the compassionate women behind him who you could tell were losing their patience. Finally a coworker came back from break I wasn't alone, I asked for advice with the man, he gave the go ahead without even knowing anything, we won't deny anyone food, no it's not policy but it's the right thing to do. I told the man, go ahead take your food, if you find the money later you can pay for it but if not don't worry about it. He came back to the counter no I have the money I have to. He started searching his wallet again with waning energy and frequent hiccups that shook his thin frame. It's here, behind my id he skimmed through the bills looking for a smaller one, let's do this again as I re-rung up his food. Sure enough he had hundreds there a smile on his face a sigh of relief. Well I guess Indonesia did bring you luck and I left my shift late.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Phia

phia, sophie, sophia

her wide blue eyes couldn't stop twinkling, you know that look in the eyes when someone is truly smiling inside

i think it was her grandmother and grandfather who brought her through my line first.

general patience growing shorter with the five year old

asking questions, of course

wondering why people are the way they are, i wonder too

she came through with her aunts,

nice women buying the helpless child food

she almost fit in with their own children, but not quite, the way they looked down at her in pure disbelief and slight annoyance

she had hope when you knew she was surrounded by suffering, she was bright and quick to comment on truth rarely anyone admits exists

i looked forward to seeing her come towards me with whomever might be feeding her that day

her mother the most impatient of them all, get over here, stop it

rolling her eyes and corralling her with her foot

where does the irritation stem, it doesn't make sense for i don't know what brought them to the hospital for weeks

her last day she asked me "are you my friend?"

i am your friend sophia

Saturday, October 28, 2006

beautiful day

it's a beautiful day

well yes I thought . . it was sunny, pleasant temperature, perfect summer afternoon

yes sir it is

my wife just woke up from a two month coma today

and she won't stop talking

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Sweater

He wore a brilliantly colored sweater, obviously homemade with a pattern that twisted your eyes. A colorful hand knit hat to match. But not matching like a mother would match, more as if a young boy had been dressed by his father. He was with a man, probably a young father himself, as they slowly moved through patricia's line. Anything to slow down her line a little more, she commented, I like your sweater. Tears filled the small man's eyes, my wife made it for me . . I'm sorry, she just died and I can't get over her. His son consoles him, pats him on the back, it's alright to cry Dad.




Saturday, October 28, 2006
Dysfunction
I've been found out. Two sisters together have the nerve to say anything. One is relieved that their mother's "friend" finally came to keep her company in the hospital. It's the first time she's not reluctant to see him; after all her mother kicked her out of the house so she could drink sherry and sit in the hot tub with him. I don't need to hear about their dysfunctional family says the other. I'm sure she hears about dysfunction all the time working up here, enough to write a book even.



Thursday, November 09, 2006
talk

working in a hospital, people want to talk

all sorts of people about all sorts of things

they think we want to know

at first I was caught off guard

mumbling some sort of response

hoping they wouldn't decipher my incompetence

then I soon found fun in remarking

not cleverly just unique

catching them off guard, admitting honesty

or sometimes I would borrow a phrase

those few words I would worry about scrambling

and never can quite tell what they infer

he was telling me about a movie, Flying Nuns

something just wasn't real

well I said, there's a time for everything

yes, he said yes there is

and sat there gazing out the bus window

marveling over my profound timing