There is no sleep to be had in a hospital, no matter how good you feel or are. The woman starring in the role of "Mother" in the play that is my life is not well, so I've had to check into Motel Sicks this week, sleeping on the cot of the incarcerated. Plastic pillow and all.
The patients have been...interesting, since we've been here. One fella hollered so much last night, he required four security officers, restraints and Haldol. I begged the staff to give me five minutes with him. I was tired and in no mood to put up with his mouth and I am not positive, but I am p r e t t y sure I could have provided him with a Come to Cheeses moment, but that might've ended up with me in restraints so I stayed put.
My maternal unit has always been one of the craziest players on my stage, but this place, a regular hospital with some highly irregular characters, is giving her a run for her money.
So, one more week where circumstances have sucked away my life and time. The good news is, I get to observe the medical field as they deal with the "what" as they attempt to determine the "why" of this health mystery. There is a reason they still call it "Practicing" medicine. But, they should know -- I also get to report it.
I warn you, this may get snarky. Seeing it as I will through bleary eyes and all. Who can sleep through this? Night or day, they leave the light on.
