Nothing Unusual to See Here
OR
Naked, and Not Afraid (anybody will care)
The heat has been on all night. I've been perspiring like crazy. Yes, it's only 80° Fahrenheit, but to keep it dialed in there, it's been necessary that the door to our room be kept open all night so that it stays below 85° .. of course, the noise out there (moaning 100 year old woman, and the ever persistent "help" guy) mixed with Jeff's all night television in here (both sound and light) has made sleeping a near impossibility.
And now I'm completely naked (chewing pure ginger gum to help mitigate the tooth pain), my fan blowing across my full breadth, and the CNA is performing clean-up duties upon my roommate while engaging in running commentary.
Of course I'm up. I've BEEN up. Who wouldn't be? So Let's do some serious writing, for your sake and mine. Let's also describe what was (mere hours ago) a journey to a place both nearby, yet reasonably far away from here.
BULLETIN: roommate Jeff (the Often Frozen) asked the (Always Speaking Louder than Necessary) CNA to open his window. And she did. So the 49° out there, and the 81° in here, and the 71° out in the hallway are in effect, committed to an unholy battle of temperature attrition.
And have no fear, I'll report back with additional updates as far flung variables are made known.
Touching and Tripping
I cannot tell the whole detailed story here (although I did tell one person.. I had to.. but she's been sworn to forever secrecy. Well, maybe not sworn, but she understands the possible ramifications). In effect, you cannot keep absolutely everything to yourself. At least I can't. Well, I can… and often do, but sometimes I don't want to.
In any case, the full story will come out in my forthcoming book... the exposé.. the mini-novella. Whatever it turns out to be (sorry for holding out on you, but trust me, it's for your own good).
But right now, I'll share all that is necessary to make the story work for you and I in this present moment.
As you likely already know, my last two CT scan appointments had been derailed due to a lack of generalized comprehension. Some of those issues were resolved today, but not all of them. So how about we explore the many facets of Howard's CT Experience?
Tabula Rosa
My tag-along CNA is the CNA who was supposed to tag-along with me the last two times I never ever achieved lift-off. Make sense? And they call her... Rosa. Remember her? She's the one who generously gave me the bottle of vanilla spray (Gingerbread Latte) several weeks ago. And the spray is still going strong. And it seems, Rosa is, too.
Meanwhile, In the transport vehicle (and on the way to the appointment), we talked ceaselessly as we crossed over into far North Scottsdale. I sort of almost wanted to look quietly out the windows and enjoy the landscape, but she kept reeling me back into the conversation. Smiling. Nodding. Eyeballs blinking. The usual stuff. So I connected, related, and enjoyed.
We arrived at the appointment five minutes early, yet the girl at the desk advised that they were running 30 minutes late.. waiting on special equipment to accommodate me. So I had the transport driver roll me back outside into the nearly open desert environs.
I was situated in the shade, sun behind us, breeze pulsing and blowing all the while. And the CNA and I resumed our running conversation.
BULLETIN #2: my roommate buzzed the CNA again, requesting that she shut our door, because Rambling Annie began erupting all over the place, a full volume spewing acrid consonants, even penetrating my inefficient ear muffs, ear plugs, and remnant ear wax.
The front desk woman came outside with that 'I'm afraid I've got bad news' expression splashed across her face.
"I'm afraid I've got bad news," she begins. "We need the transport to be with you the entire time, but they (she points) are only scheduled to drop you off.. not remain with you."
"So, you'll have nowhere to put me?"
"Exactly."
I'd been through this drill before. Several times previously. What's to be done with Howard.
"It looks like we'll have to cancel the appointment," the administrator suggests.
"No, we won't! No, we won't," Rosa exclaimed, her Spanish accent conveying a spirited defiance.
The conversation went back and forth and side to side from there. Options. Potential anecdotes.
BULLETIN #3: We are now back into the low 80s.. and I am sweating and shaking a bit. The heat is impacting me negatively (and probably the sleeplessness). At least the TV has now been turned off. And the lights, too.
And I just remembered that I have a couple of ice packs from earlier, tucked into the bin on my bed. And I've placed these ice packs upon my chest… hoping they become coolingly effective.
After a time, our driver retreats back to his vehicle in order to engage his dispatcher. You see, according to the driver, dispatch pulls the strings. They are in charge. And here at the Imaging Center, the Chief Radiologist is in charge.
"Hello, I'm in charge. You must be Howard!"
It is she, the Radiologist Extraordinaire.
"I must be, and I am." I offer, holding out my hand. And she takes it… making a hand sandwich, before realizing.
"It's quite alright, I appreciate physical interactions. I've been deprived."
She nods, then continues holding my hand in a gentle way. It is then explained that I'd recently moved into a nursing home. And then the three of them discuss my appearance, my improbable age. And then I am asked to tell my story. Which I do. A very brief version. One that seems to amuse and intrigue each of the three.
After holding court with threesome (speaking nonsense, employing my improvised routine) for an additional 10 minutes, the employees head back indoors.
Rosa reinitiates our conversation in between calls to an angry transport company dispatcher, and intermittent conversations with our desperately quiet transport driver.
Eventually the joyful radiologist comes back out, and I suggest to her that we commandeer a stretcher from one of the other outfits next door or nearby. Basically, we were in the midst of a medical plaza, so why not?
BULLETIN #4: 84° and rising, and yet I've still been able to maintain consciousness!
Nothing much happens in the meanwhile. I'm happy to be outside. Happy to be communicating with other humans. But eventually we reached the crisis point, the breaking point, the point where the bough breaks and Howard comes crashing down.
"I am bringing you inside. If they don't take you right now, I am bringing you back to the facility."
That's what the driver said. So back inside we go. And the driver's anxiously pacing back and forth. He has a job to do. And right now, I am that job. And I'm not getting done.
Meanwhile, Rosa is tugging at her jacket. And I'm hoping these imaging people will somehow come through. Which they do.
In a neon bright hallway, the team rolls me onto a special (and especially uncomfortable) gurney of sorts (and the transport driver is off like a shot, never to be seen again).
"We need to take off your shorts."
"Well… okay. Everyone at the facility has seen everything I own and operate, might as well show the three of you as well."
They seem unreasonably amused.
"What about my shirt?"
"That's all right, you can leave it on."
Who am I to argue with highly trained professionals? Haha!
Note: they did eventually give me a take-home sheet
The gurney was rather uncomfortable, despite the extra bandaged padding on my coccyx (I had the nurse apply it before I left the facility). And then strapping my head inside the brain scan apparatus was .. additionally restricting.
Ending Inconclusive
Hours later she was finished with me, but … things weren't what they seemed (cue mysterious bongo music) - What were they going to do with Howard's Radioactive body?
You see, other patients were lined up to be scanned. And there was no place to put me. Yes, Rosa called to have the transport company return, but apparently, they were an hour out.. probably somewhere in and around Ahwatukee. Or at the donut shop.
Radioactive Howard Options Discussed:
Wheelchair (impossible)
Floor (unclean)
Loveseat (in radiologists office)
Breakroom table (possibly)
Bed of a pick-up truck (indeed)
X-ray table…
YES! The X-ray table in the other room!
Fast-forward ---- It's a Wrap
On the way back to the facility, Rosa and I maintained accelerated conversational status throughout as the sunset landscape showed.
And overall, it was another joyous life-affirming experience. And yet again, the journey was the destination, including happenings unexpected and never imagined. I'm truly alive, as others have made me be.
BULLETIN #5: It's 86 F#@$!!$ degrees in here now!!! I AM MELTING. My ice is no longer cold. My lips are parched. My skin is peeling off in clumps. My legs are now cramping up. Who would have thought.. I got murdered by heat death in a nursing facility during a midwinter's night.
NOTE: ^ exaggerating ever so slightly!!!
FINAL BULLETIN: Saved by the morning CNA! She just opened the door, opened the window all the way, and now the cool air floweth unto me.
Anyway, I'll soon be heading outside into the morning coolness to sleep coolly and quietly.
Tabs
Oh. I had my friend purchase the $45 tablet for me. I offered him my bass guitar in return (wherever it may be at the moment), but he volunteered to pay for the tablet out of pocket.
Take care,
Howard
OR
Naked, and Not Afraid (anybody will care)
The heat has been on all night. I've been perspiring like crazy. Yes, it's only 80° Fahrenheit, but to keep it dialed in there, it's been necessary that the door to our room be kept open all night so that it stays below 85° .. of course, the noise out there (moaning 100 year old woman, and the ever persistent "help" guy) mixed with Jeff's all night television in here (both sound and light) has made sleeping a near impossibility.
And now I'm completely naked (chewing pure ginger gum to help mitigate the tooth pain), my fan blowing across my full breadth, and the CNA is performing clean-up duties upon my roommate while engaging in running commentary.
Of course I'm up. I've BEEN up. Who wouldn't be? So Let's do some serious writing, for your sake and mine. Let's also describe what was (mere hours ago) a journey to a place both nearby, yet reasonably far away from here.
BULLETIN: roommate Jeff (the Often Frozen) asked the (Always Speaking Louder than Necessary) CNA to open his window. And she did. So the 49° out there, and the 81° in here, and the 71° out in the hallway are in effect, committed to an unholy battle of temperature attrition.
And have no fear, I'll report back with additional updates as far flung variables are made known.
Touching and Tripping
I cannot tell the whole detailed story here (although I did tell one person.. I had to.. but she's been sworn to forever secrecy. Well, maybe not sworn, but she understands the possible ramifications). In effect, you cannot keep absolutely everything to yourself. At least I can't. Well, I can… and often do, but sometimes I don't want to.
In any case, the full story will come out in my forthcoming book... the exposé.. the mini-novella. Whatever it turns out to be (sorry for holding out on you, but trust me, it's for your own good).
But right now, I'll share all that is necessary to make the story work for you and I in this present moment.
As you likely already know, my last two CT scan appointments had been derailed due to a lack of generalized comprehension. Some of those issues were resolved today, but not all of them. So how about we explore the many facets of Howard's CT Experience?
Tabula Rosa
My tag-along CNA is the CNA who was supposed to tag-along with me the last two times I never ever achieved lift-off. Make sense? And they call her... Rosa. Remember her? She's the one who generously gave me the bottle of vanilla spray (Gingerbread Latte) several weeks ago. And the spray is still going strong. And it seems, Rosa is, too.
Meanwhile, In the transport vehicle (and on the way to the appointment), we talked ceaselessly as we crossed over into far North Scottsdale. I sort of almost wanted to look quietly out the windows and enjoy the landscape, but she kept reeling me back into the conversation. Smiling. Nodding. Eyeballs blinking. The usual stuff. So I connected, related, and enjoyed.
We arrived at the appointment five minutes early, yet the girl at the desk advised that they were running 30 minutes late.. waiting on special equipment to accommodate me. So I had the transport driver roll me back outside into the nearly open desert environs.
I was situated in the shade, sun behind us, breeze pulsing and blowing all the while. And the CNA and I resumed our running conversation.
BULLETIN #2: my roommate buzzed the CNA again, requesting that she shut our door, because Rambling Annie began erupting all over the place, a full volume spewing acrid consonants, even penetrating my inefficient ear muffs, ear plugs, and remnant ear wax.
The front desk woman came outside with that 'I'm afraid I've got bad news' expression splashed across her face.
"I'm afraid I've got bad news," she begins. "We need the transport to be with you the entire time, but they (she points) are only scheduled to drop you off.. not remain with you."
"So, you'll have nowhere to put me?"
"Exactly."
I'd been through this drill before. Several times previously. What's to be done with Howard.
"It looks like we'll have to cancel the appointment," the administrator suggests.
"No, we won't! No, we won't," Rosa exclaimed, her Spanish accent conveying a spirited defiance.
The conversation went back and forth and side to side from there. Options. Potential anecdotes.
BULLETIN #3: We are now back into the low 80s.. and I am sweating and shaking a bit. The heat is impacting me negatively (and probably the sleeplessness). At least the TV has now been turned off. And the lights, too.
And I just remembered that I have a couple of ice packs from earlier, tucked into the bin on my bed. And I've placed these ice packs upon my chest… hoping they become coolingly effective.
After a time, our driver retreats back to his vehicle in order to engage his dispatcher. You see, according to the driver, dispatch pulls the strings. They are in charge. And here at the Imaging Center, the Chief Radiologist is in charge.
"Hello, I'm in charge. You must be Howard!"
It is she, the Radiologist Extraordinaire.
"I must be, and I am." I offer, holding out my hand. And she takes it… making a hand sandwich, before realizing.
"It's quite alright, I appreciate physical interactions. I've been deprived."
She nods, then continues holding my hand in a gentle way. It is then explained that I'd recently moved into a nursing home. And then the three of them discuss my appearance, my improbable age. And then I am asked to tell my story. Which I do. A very brief version. One that seems to amuse and intrigue each of the three.
After holding court with threesome (speaking nonsense, employing my improvised routine) for an additional 10 minutes, the employees head back indoors.
Rosa reinitiates our conversation in between calls to an angry transport company dispatcher, and intermittent conversations with our desperately quiet transport driver.
Eventually the joyful radiologist comes back out, and I suggest to her that we commandeer a stretcher from one of the other outfits next door or nearby. Basically, we were in the midst of a medical plaza, so why not?
BULLETIN #4: 84° and rising, and yet I've still been able to maintain consciousness!
Nothing much happens in the meanwhile. I'm happy to be outside. Happy to be communicating with other humans. But eventually we reached the crisis point, the breaking point, the point where the bough breaks and Howard comes crashing down.
"I am bringing you inside. If they don't take you right now, I am bringing you back to the facility."
That's what the driver said. So back inside we go. And the driver's anxiously pacing back and forth. He has a job to do. And right now, I am that job. And I'm not getting done.
Meanwhile, Rosa is tugging at her jacket. And I'm hoping these imaging people will somehow come through. Which they do.
In a neon bright hallway, the team rolls me onto a special (and especially uncomfortable) gurney of sorts (and the transport driver is off like a shot, never to be seen again).
"We need to take off your shorts."
"Well… okay. Everyone at the facility has seen everything I own and operate, might as well show the three of you as well."
They seem unreasonably amused.
"What about my shirt?"
"That's all right, you can leave it on."
Who am I to argue with highly trained professionals? Haha!
Note: they did eventually give me a take-home sheet
The gurney was rather uncomfortable, despite the extra bandaged padding on my coccyx (I had the nurse apply it before I left the facility). And then strapping my head inside the brain scan apparatus was .. additionally restricting.
Ending Inconclusive
Hours later she was finished with me, but … things weren't what they seemed (cue mysterious bongo music) - What were they going to do with Howard's Radioactive body?
You see, other patients were lined up to be scanned. And there was no place to put me. Yes, Rosa called to have the transport company return, but apparently, they were an hour out.. probably somewhere in and around Ahwatukee. Or at the donut shop.
Radioactive Howard Options Discussed:
Wheelchair (impossible)
Floor (unclean)
Loveseat (in radiologists office)
Breakroom table (possibly)
Bed of a pick-up truck (indeed)
X-ray table…
YES! The X-ray table in the other room!
Fast-forward ---- It's a Wrap
On the way back to the facility, Rosa and I maintained accelerated conversational status throughout as the sunset landscape showed.
And overall, it was another joyous life-affirming experience. And yet again, the journey was the destination, including happenings unexpected and never imagined. I'm truly alive, as others have made me be.
BULLETIN #5: It's 86 F#@$!!$ degrees in here now!!! I AM MELTING. My ice is no longer cold. My lips are parched. My skin is peeling off in clumps. My legs are now cramping up. Who would have thought.. I got murdered by heat death in a nursing facility during a midwinter's night.
NOTE: ^ exaggerating ever so slightly!!!
FINAL BULLETIN: Saved by the morning CNA! She just opened the door, opened the window all the way, and now the cool air floweth unto me.
Anyway, I'll soon be heading outside into the morning coolness to sleep coolly and quietly.
Tabs
Oh. I had my friend purchase the $45 tablet for me. I offered him my bass guitar in return (wherever it may be at the moment), but he volunteered to pay for the tablet out of pocket.
Take care,
Howard