NEVER TELL THEM YOU VOTED FOR BUSH

Some of you know that I spent a very eventful time in the local British hospital this past week. Now that I have regained my balance for the most part AND my sense of humor I thought I’d tell you from an American patient’s view point about my experience.

I woke up on Wednesday with the room spinning terribly out of control, fell out of bed and could barely just crawl into bed and wait for Robert to show up at 4pm after work. I am now more convinced than ever that I’d die if I were unconscious and couldn’t tell Robert what to do to get me to a doctor. I also found out that if you want to be seen in the ER really really fast here’s what you do 1) sit directly in front of the ER receptionist 2) puke bright yellow all over the floor. Once back in ER they hooked me up to the EKG and started doing blood tests for diabetes. The good news is those tests came back fine. Then a friend of mine showed up just in time for the doctor to announce they were going to keep me because it was possible I had a stroke. You should have seen their faces – if I wasn’t so scared it would have been a Kodak moment. What I thought was strange is that for nearly 24 hours I received no real medical attention other than interviews by doctors asking the same questions. I answered one of the questions wrong (in their opinion). When they found out I was American their next question was “Did you vote for him?” STUPID AMERICAN, I said “Yes, and I voted for his pappy too”. I think that explained the fact that for 24 hours I laid in a hospital bed with my jeans and shoes on. I think it also accounted for no food, water put at the end of my bed where I couldn’t get it and the beeper laying on the floor somewhere. When the nurses came around asking everyone if they wanted a bath they always overlooked me and I wasn’t offered “tea” 4 times a day like everyone else. Finally, they started me on a drug for inner ear disorder and it actually started to work - - UNTIL THEY LOST THE MEDICINE! It’s a hospital for goodness sake, get more - - it took me having to talk to a doctor and letting them know I missed 2 doses and then the medicine miraculously showed up. I was also in a ward where I was the “youngster” by far of the patients. All women because these were wards of 6. All over 86 - - with breathing problems. Between that and the fact they never turn off the overhead lights there was no sleep the first night. Being among all these older ladies really was an eye-opener and I was entertained most of the day and night listening to the same conversations between the same 2 ladies “where do you live?” I live in Jarrow, where do you live? I think I live in Jarrow – where are my glasses, they’re in your hand; where are my glasses, they are in your hand – where do you live? Jarrow. I think I live in Jarrow – where are my glasses? This literally went on for hour after hour after hour. Then Robert noticed the sign over my bed. It said “Oxygen is a drug-do you have your prescription?” Robert told me “Just say NO to Oxygen” - - yeah, right! That would be the last thing I said. The day they released me the nurse came to tell me we could go and started to walk away - - I had to tell her “don’t you think you want to take the IV line out of my arm first”. It wasn’t like they used it for anything - - didn’t matter I wasn’t drinking and my lips turned crusty, they don’t hang IV bags and they don’t want to give antibiotics. We didn’t know what to do because no one was giving us instructions how to check out and most of the ward nurses asked where I was going when I got dressed - - I don’t know if they’ve figured it out yet that I went home.

Anyway, there you have it - - my advice is NEVER TELL THEM YOU VOTED FOR BUSH. Robert later told me he was afraid I was going to die - - because if I did he would have to move into a 4-man cabin on the ship. I guess I really am Robert’s greatest asset, as long as I’m alive he gets to live in a spacious 2-man cabin. Robert’s best asset is NOT his romantic side but regardless, he’s my best friend and I’m so glad I went through this experience with him.


That thing on my head is the hospital puke bowl. I thought they looked very much like party hats althought I wasn't having a party. But just days after getting out of the hospital I put those hats to good use by turning them into Super Bowl party hats.





You can tell how happy Robert is to pose with his party hat on! Party Poop. Or maybe was it because we were rooting for the Seahawks just to tick off our Steeler friends?

Have a great week - be kind to each other and may the joy of serving the Lord where you are be yours.

Blessings, Robert & Susan