Sunday, September 03, 2006
Morning folks. Sorry for being missing for a week, but my get up and go seems to have got up and went. Since L'il Bear has threatened to run off if I don't check in, I guess the excuses have run out.
Things are about the same with me, still waiting for another CT scan. I may be wrong, but I feel that the problem is medication related. Also it's possible I pounded on myself too hard on the trip. If so, it was worth it.
I could rant about the state of our health care system, once the envy of the world, but what would be the point. It is what it is, unfortunately. I even inquired about a private (you pay) scan but damn if there isn't a wait list for that.
Of course if I had a work-related injury, or was a professional athlete, or even a police officer, it would be done within hours. But those of us that worked and paid taxes to build the system have been basically told that we're not a priority. I hate to think of the world my grandchildren are growing into because the system is so entrenched that nothing short of a revolution is going to change it. Okay, settle down!
Since I wasn't here yesterday, here is a guffaw for ya:
Ethel was a bit of a demon in her wheelchair and loved to charge around the ward, taking corners on one wheel, and getting up to maximum speed on the long corridors. Because the poor woman was one sandwich short of a picnic, the other residents tolerated her, and some of the males actually joined in.
One day, Ethel was speeding up one corridor when a door opened and Kooky Clarence stepped out with his arm outstretched. "STOP!" he shouted in a firm voice. "Have you got a license for that thing?"
Ethel fished around in her handbag and pulled out a Kit Kat wrapper, and held it up to him.
"OK," he said, and away Ethel sped down the hall. As she took the corner near the TV lounge on one wheel, Weird Harold popped out in front of her and shouted "STOP! Have you got proof of insurance?"
Ethel dug into her handbag, pulled out a drink coaster, and held it up to him.
Harold nodded, and said, "Carry on, ma'am."
As Ethel neared the final corridor before the front door, Crazy Craig stepped out in front of her, stark naked, with a very sizable erection.
"Oh, good grief, "cried Ethel, "not the breathalyzer test again!"
Take care guys.
Trucker Bob blogged at 4:43 AM