![]() |
||||||||
| January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I | ||||||||
| Jason Floyd Williams modern health-care. He’s gotta couple granddaughters, teenagers by now, that he’s never seen– Yet, he’s willing to donate cash to the top scholars & best athletes among the local Boy Scout ranks. He was doing this last week– Standing behind a podium, walking down marble steps, handing out personal checks, until he slipped & egg-cracked his skull on the stairs. He passed out. He laid on the floor like a fallen Santa Claus or a sucker-punched Blake painting. My grandmother got his telephone call from the hospital around 3am. She beat-out insomnia & its awkward partnering with sleeeping pills & low fat ice cream to join John at the ER. The story pebble-skips past the drive there to the stroll from the parking lot to the hospital. “I was walking behind an elderly Jewish couple & then we noticed a few hoodlums near the entrance. I was anxious & worried until I realized we were 2 old Jews & one insane woman versus 4 black thugs. I think we could’ve taken ‘em, & if we couldn’t, they probably realized we were poor & had old vaginas.” 2. The front of the hospital is the Home & Garden, botanticaal cheerleader you’d like to fuck– It’s a perfect place, colorful, & that’s all you notice. Everything else is a sloppy joe. And inside the hospital it’s a mealworm; the potato salad you’ve forgotten in the fridge; a Joan Collins robot. 3. John & my grandmother waited 4+ hours in the hospital hallway. His head kept leaking blood & he curbed consciousness like a feral dog. Finally, he started talking to his hallway neighbors about the “fucking doctors” & their priority lists. “Well,” my grandma told me, “one tubby nurse– a guy around 400lbs– went & told the doctor what John said. And the doctor stopped whatever she was doing– massaging hearts, or scooping brains back in– & came out & lectured John about his language. It was all too ridiculous. Once the doctor left, John called the blabby nurse a wimp & a tattle-tale. And another nurse went & told the same doctor a patient was talking trash.” “You’re kidding me?” “Nope. The doctor came out again, and, a little more forcifully, reinterated her original speech.” “Unbelievable.” “Yeah, it was horrible. We’re not going back. But I did steal a stethoscope.” |
||||||||
| RETURN to JANUARY 2005 | ||||||||