Saturday, November 01, 2008

Johnny Rumble:
A Matter of Life and Death

I loath hospitals. The absolute sterility of the walls, the floor, and the air itself violates my senses and forces my brain to run wild with thoughts of "Life is born that way...and the dead go that way. I hate this place."

So I avoid hospitals and clinics like the Clap or the Plague. Ninety-nine point nine nine percent of the time, I won't even walk into a place of medical worship, even if my own health is on the line. Being sick for five months straight is not a fun time, but I'd rather take that (and have) than go be treated like a pin cushion by some nutjob that has the title Doctor in front of his name.

I had to go to a hospital the wee hours of Friday morning.

I wanted to vomit on the floor of the ambulance.

Yes, ambulance. I was not taken to the hosptial, so much as shuttled there with the pomp and circumstance of flashing lights and a one man band. One minute I'm playing pool, having a few drinks with friends, the next I'm playing TACAMO with the people around me, the barkeep, the EMTs and all the wacko doctors.

Fortunatly, it wasn't me in the gurney.

Stayin Alive, Stayin Alive

Johnny Rumble

2 comments:

  1. I know you avoid them like the plague. What happened?! Are you ok?!?!

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  2. hah! hospitals are for horror movies!

    ReplyDelete