Editor’s note: This is inspired by a true story. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This is a three part series.
Upon entering the hospital we walked to the help desk. I had to fill out the paperwork. Shawn stood in no condition. Once the preliminary research was completed we looked for a place to rest away from the crowd sitting crunched in single seats. Runny snot nosed toddlers danced around their mother and one lady cradled her broken arm. I wanted to get away from the sick people. I didn’t need to add to my cold.
The first bench I sat on smelled bad and I knew it would stick to me, like a smoky club but I got to the point where I didn’t care. Fatigue took over my body and mind. Both were weary. I also saw three grease spots too and wondered how they got there. I told myself if I didn’t look hard, they weren’t there.
“You’re sleepy,” Shawn said.
“No, I’m not. I’m not sleepy,” I lied.
“Yes, you are. Go to sleep,” he insisted.
“I’m not going to sleep, I’ll be OK,” my weak protest.
He securely wrapped his arm around me and like my head instantly made a pillow out of him. To block out the strong lighting he threw his cap over my gleaming forehead and dreary eyes and I went out in dreamland.
Thirty minutes passed by.
“Shawn Fill!! Shawn Fill!!” the nurse yelled.
We both jumped up in unison and ran to the door with the nurse.
It was just too good to be true. We were getting HELP! I figured someone saw the desperation on our faces and wanted to help immediately.
We rushed to the window with the receptionist. Oh thank Jesus I was going to get to go to my lumpy old twin bed back in my room!
FALSE ALARM
She just wanted to check him in AGAIN. We saw another nurse, who took Shawn’s blood pressure. Which skyrocketed because he’d been through trauma. My strength kept tears from welling up in my eyes and once again we walked out into the lobby, defeated.
By then we’d seen the birth of a new day. Around 1a.m. I started calling random friends, for no reason at all and yet to keep my mind going. Shawn and I talked about everything under the moon. The day faded, said bye-bye suckers and didn’t come back. I felt like I’d been waiting out a storm at the airport.
“Are you mad?” he asked.
“I’m not mad,” I replied.
“Do you want to go,” he continued.
“No. We’re here, we’ve waited and you need to get help,” I said as a final answer.
We did have excitement. It came from walking around the hospital and we found a comfortable couch. You would have sworn we’d just won lottery the way we acted over the sight of pillows! And just when we found a cool spot the nurse came calling again.
Shawn went to the back and after a doctor and two nurses looked at him they took him for x-rays. Then a few minutes later the last nurse took out a little tube of Dura-bond, a medical adhesive and as if she was a manicurist she painted his nail with the glue and sent him off. After five hours of Shawn mashing his pinkie finger in the door and splitting the nail, we were finally leaving the hospital. It was just badly broken nail and blood everywhere, but he didn’t want it to grow back grosteque. I understood and waited with him by his side, as a friend. It’s only a way I would have wanted someone else to treat me.
…the end... and the start of a great friendship.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Night in the Hospital (Part II)
Editor’s note: This is inspired by a true story. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This is a three part series.
The clock hit around 10:30 when I figured out it became time to leave the zoo. Shawn’s bleeding started to slow to more of a constant drip. He could make the trip across the city to a better and safer hospital. The darkness started to envelope around the surroundings. The deep night made me want to leave even more. No, I take that back. The sight of the eight-month pregnant lady who suffered a bad asthma attack brought me back to saner thoughts. Well, it became a combination of things. The wait, my fatigue creating a loss of concentration and thought of me having to actually sit in the waiting room amongst thieves led me to go across the city to a better hospital.
“I have insurance we can go anywhere,” he insisted.
I shook my head as if the idea didn’t hit me sooner.
“The drive is about 15 minutes, but you’ll be OK,” I responded.
The new hospital was going to be much cleaner. During the drive the only sounds made came from the iPod. Fall Out Boy’s “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race” blared from the Civic’s speakers.
Maybe nothing was said because we both came to the same conclusion.
We were going to be in for a long night.
The clock hit around 10:30 when I figured out it became time to leave the zoo. Shawn’s bleeding started to slow to more of a constant drip. He could make the trip across the city to a better and safer hospital. The darkness started to envelope around the surroundings. The deep night made me want to leave even more. No, I take that back. The sight of the eight-month pregnant lady who suffered a bad asthma attack brought me back to saner thoughts. Well, it became a combination of things. The wait, my fatigue creating a loss of concentration and thought of me having to actually sit in the waiting room amongst thieves led me to go across the city to a better hospital.
“I have insurance we can go anywhere,” he insisted.
I shook my head as if the idea didn’t hit me sooner.
“The drive is about 15 minutes, but you’ll be OK,” I responded.
The new hospital was going to be much cleaner. During the drive the only sounds made came from the iPod. Fall Out Boy’s “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race” blared from the Civic’s speakers.
Maybe nothing was said because we both came to the same conclusion.
We were going to be in for a long night.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Night in the Hospital (Part I)
Editor’s note: This is inspired by a true story. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This is a three part series.
He started bleeding profusely. Blood splattered on me.
“Oh my Gawd! I can’t watch. HELP HIM!!!!! HELP HIM!!!!!!”
“Man, I can’t do it,” Em cried!
“Put pressure to stop the bleeding,” the poor victim said.
I can tell Shawn wanted to shed tears from the pain, but his pride wouldn’t let him show it. Yet, he found light of the situation and made a small joke.
“Hey, Brandi, you cannot be a nurse,” he said.
“I know,” I responded confidently with passion. “I’m a writer! I didn’t miss my calling.”
“We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”
Everything happened in less than five seconds.
Five seconds doesn’t seem like a lot. Until, you’re in pain.
Count them.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
In that time, my entire plans for the night changed.
One minute I was getting ready to go into Kimikos, a trendy bar and grill for young socialites. My outfit was ON, and I smelled like pure fun summertime with less on the floral. Because I wanted to attract people and not offend them. Then the next I was heading to the nearest medical facility, none other than the pissy-pew filled hallways of Earl B. Short Hospital, the charity hospital, or a.k.a. the city zoo. The exact opposite of where I wanted to be.
In route I guessed to myself how many inmates would be chained to gurneys along filthy walls.
Or a better guess would be have been how many bleeding, smelly drunks, and psych patients I would see in the dark alley. If I had to make a bet on 20, I probably would have hit on the mark. I hoped none would try to ‘holla’. I feared if I politely said ‘No’, it wouldn’t be understood and as disrespect and we’d be in a knife fight. Already nervous for my friend, I can’t think of fake numbers and excuses to give out on the fly of why I can’t go out with the fry boy from McDonalds, who has mental problems.
Sure enough, as if on cue, when we rolled up in the parking lot the flashlight cop sat in his car and we were off to fend for ourselves.
…to be continued.
He started bleeding profusely. Blood splattered on me.
“Oh my Gawd! I can’t watch. HELP HIM!!!!! HELP HIM!!!!!!”
“Man, I can’t do it,” Em cried!
“Put pressure to stop the bleeding,” the poor victim said.
I can tell Shawn wanted to shed tears from the pain, but his pride wouldn’t let him show it. Yet, he found light of the situation and made a small joke.
“Hey, Brandi, you cannot be a nurse,” he said.
“I know,” I responded confidently with passion. “I’m a writer! I didn’t miss my calling.”
“We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”
Everything happened in less than five seconds.
Five seconds doesn’t seem like a lot. Until, you’re in pain.
Count them.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
In that time, my entire plans for the night changed.
One minute I was getting ready to go into Kimikos, a trendy bar and grill for young socialites. My outfit was ON, and I smelled like pure fun summertime with less on the floral. Because I wanted to attract people and not offend them. Then the next I was heading to the nearest medical facility, none other than the pissy-pew filled hallways of Earl B. Short Hospital, the charity hospital, or a.k.a. the city zoo. The exact opposite of where I wanted to be.
In route I guessed to myself how many inmates would be chained to gurneys along filthy walls.
Or a better guess would be have been how many bleeding, smelly drunks, and psych patients I would see in the dark alley. If I had to make a bet on 20, I probably would have hit on the mark. I hoped none would try to ‘holla’. I feared if I politely said ‘No’, it wouldn’t be understood and as disrespect and we’d be in a knife fight. Already nervous for my friend, I can’t think of fake numbers and excuses to give out on the fly of why I can’t go out with the fry boy from McDonalds, who has mental problems.
Sure enough, as if on cue, when we rolled up in the parking lot the flashlight cop sat in his car and we were off to fend for ourselves.
…to be continued.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Fast Food
I made a deal with my aunt. I’m not eating out for an entire week. She says I spend too much money going out. Fact is, I have no culinary skills and an insult from my little sister kept me out of the kitchen for a long time. The troll said, “Bran, you burned the chili. Look, we can’t have you cooking food, it costs money and we don’t want to waste that!”
Since then cereal & milk and sandwiches have been my best options.
For excitement I’ll switch from turkey breast, roasted chicken, shrimp and a classic peanut butter & strawberry jelly.
So far, it’s Thursday. The last time I bought something from a fast food place was Monday. I’m doing well. I’ve probably saved about $30. For the past three days I just haven’t had late night romps to Chili’s for their piping hot shrimp alfredo thingy or Paradise Pie, a warm chewy brownie filled with nuts and topped with vanilla ice cream. At 73, my aunt knows a lot of things. She may be right. And I’m learning. I had a bad addiction to Taco Bell’s 99. cents zesty nachos, but it’s a bigger value and lesson I’m getting from not eating out and using the resources around me. I’ll be able to enjoy my check more, instead of putting all towards buying food. If it’s a success, I may just carry this on into next week.
Since then cereal & milk and sandwiches have been my best options.
For excitement I’ll switch from turkey breast, roasted chicken, shrimp and a classic peanut butter & strawberry jelly.
So far, it’s Thursday. The last time I bought something from a fast food place was Monday. I’m doing well. I’ve probably saved about $30. For the past three days I just haven’t had late night romps to Chili’s for their piping hot shrimp alfredo thingy or Paradise Pie, a warm chewy brownie filled with nuts and topped with vanilla ice cream. At 73, my aunt knows a lot of things. She may be right. And I’m learning. I had a bad addiction to Taco Bell’s 99. cents zesty nachos, but it’s a bigger value and lesson I’m getting from not eating out and using the resources around me. I’ll be able to enjoy my check more, instead of putting all towards buying food. If it’s a success, I may just carry this on into next week.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Snoop Dogg said Hoes! I Can Too!
Now, I’m not saying that everything Snoop Dogg said was right. But the man had a point about Don Imus when he said: "[Rappers] are not talking about no collegiate basketball girls who have made it to the next level in education and sports. ... We are rappers that have these songs coming from our minds and our souls that are relevant to what we feel. I will not let them mutha----as say we in the same league as him."
I understand him. That’s why Tupac is so universal and still relevant. One day ‘Pac rapped about “Keep Ya Head Up,” then the next he said “F—k the world.”
There are different kinds of people. Some people may say “you can cook a pot of red beans”. But I know everyone can’t cook red beans. So I’m not going to eat it.
Like there are different types of college students. There’s the drama chick, nerd, book worm, homecoming queen, socialite, weed man, overachiever and slacker.
I know where Snoop is coming from. I’m not going to knock a college kid. Yet at the same time when you come from the ‘hood like Snoop, there are people with no conscious and who are out to get you. It may be for your money or happiness. Just because their not happy they don’t want anyone around them to be happy.
If I ever write about or call people hoes, they are. Hoes are not necessarily promiscuous women. Hoes are messy for no reason. They can be men or women.
I know from experience. From back in the day I knew a ‘loud mouth gal’. Matter of fact everyone knew her, because of her loud mouth. She’d do immature stuff, like loud cap someone in the grocery store for purchasing their groceries with a lot of change or food stamps. She’d get a kick out of sheer embarrassment of others. When her own hair wasn’t combed and that her face was dirty with cat shit in the corners of her eyes. Or it didn’t bother her at the fact that she was failing science and stayed in trouble. I saw no reasoning in that. I just saw a person buying food. She looked at the misfortune of others when she too had troubles. I’m not saying anyone’s perfect. Anyway no one liked that ho, she never had empathy.
I understand him. That’s why Tupac is so universal and still relevant. One day ‘Pac rapped about “Keep Ya Head Up,” then the next he said “F—k the world.”
There are different kinds of people. Some people may say “you can cook a pot of red beans”. But I know everyone can’t cook red beans. So I’m not going to eat it.
Like there are different types of college students. There’s the drama chick, nerd, book worm, homecoming queen, socialite, weed man, overachiever and slacker.
I know where Snoop is coming from. I’m not going to knock a college kid. Yet at the same time when you come from the ‘hood like Snoop, there are people with no conscious and who are out to get you. It may be for your money or happiness. Just because their not happy they don’t want anyone around them to be happy.
If I ever write about or call people hoes, they are. Hoes are not necessarily promiscuous women. Hoes are messy for no reason. They can be men or women.
I know from experience. From back in the day I knew a ‘loud mouth gal’. Matter of fact everyone knew her, because of her loud mouth. She’d do immature stuff, like loud cap someone in the grocery store for purchasing their groceries with a lot of change or food stamps. She’d get a kick out of sheer embarrassment of others. When her own hair wasn’t combed and that her face was dirty with cat shit in the corners of her eyes. Or it didn’t bother her at the fact that she was failing science and stayed in trouble. I saw no reasoning in that. I just saw a person buying food. She looked at the misfortune of others when she too had troubles. I’m not saying anyone’s perfect. Anyway no one liked that ho, she never had empathy.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Strive for More
Instead of pulling each other down, we need to be pulling each other up.
The world is so much bigger than Imus and Michael Richards.
Don’t even fight, argue or blame them. Because there is so much we could do with our time. Over the years, I’ve seen a many of things. People are like super heroes. We send text messages to talk across the globe at the speed of light. I took a first class flight, like a bird to change the forecast. The president can go on live TV and everyone see the same message, at the same time. And, yet taking time to hate has always been a wasted emotion. I just never saw a second hand stop ticking for no man.
The world is so much bigger than Imus and Michael Richards.
Don’t even fight, argue or blame them. Because there is so much we could do with our time. Over the years, I’ve seen a many of things. People are like super heroes. We send text messages to talk across the globe at the speed of light. I took a first class flight, like a bird to change the forecast. The president can go on live TV and everyone see the same message, at the same time. And, yet taking time to hate has always been a wasted emotion. I just never saw a second hand stop ticking for no man.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Graduation
People always ask, “When are you graduating?” Is that really the first thing that comes to your mind when you see me? My graduation? It’s not even close to May!
I would take different routes just to avoid the inquiry. It’s not a bad question. It’s just pretty annoying. It’s a catch-22.
If you go to school, people want to know when are you getting out? (Can I take my time?) If you don’t go to school, people ask, “Why didn’t you go to school?”
What’s the world in a rush for? It’s probably nice to say you’re the first to do something, but what about the best?
With careful timing, it’s called building a foundation. And I’m not done.
There are those who watch for the wrong things—instead what I’m doing that’s right.
It’s not about when I’m getting out, but of the things I accomplish while I’m there. If you’re a student and doing great things, keep doing that and obviously you know when you want your run to end.
Quote of the Day:
Behind every successful person lies a pack of Haters. That’s on everything.
I would take different routes just to avoid the inquiry. It’s not a bad question. It’s just pretty annoying. It’s a catch-22.
If you go to school, people want to know when are you getting out? (Can I take my time?) If you don’t go to school, people ask, “Why didn’t you go to school?”
What’s the world in a rush for? It’s probably nice to say you’re the first to do something, but what about the best?
With careful timing, it’s called building a foundation. And I’m not done.
There are those who watch for the wrong things—instead what I’m doing that’s right.
It’s not about when I’m getting out, but of the things I accomplish while I’m there. If you’re a student and doing great things, keep doing that and obviously you know when you want your run to end.
Quote of the Day:
Behind every successful person lies a pack of Haters. That’s on everything.
Monday, April 02, 2007
I Walked Away from Millions.
LOL. No, I really didn’t walk away. Ha! I’d stop in the middle of a busy four-lane highway and pick up a quarter if I saw one. And anyone who knows me knows that I’m not that crazy. I may be a penny pinching miser, thieving, happy scallywag, but not crazy. The headline (Walked Away from Millions) was hilarious. I swiped it from one of Oprah’s topics. The show comes on tomorrow. I can’t wait to see the episode. Privilege people see a fascination in poverty. Whereas, some take nothing for granted.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)