Yes, l am in hospital again, just a scratch really, that got really infected.
The nurses* took one look at it, took one look at each other, nodded in unison and ordered Intra-venous anti-biotics. I was a bit worried about my invisible friends that I am nurturing in my bowels, all 10 billion of them, but apparently they will be fine. It’s your oral anti-biotics they worry about.
Now I am on a drip every six hours, night and day, till things calm down.
When my fever subsides l can go home and take orals.
The nurse came in tonight, admittedly she is used to dealing with demented oldies,
hands me a cup with 2 pills in them and says matter-of-factly, “take these”.
She didn’t even say, “they are good for you”. I retorted in high dudgeon,
“I don’t take strange pills people give me, I used to do that at parties. It rarely ends well….although there was that one time I saw the entire universe in a grain of sand.
That was far-out!”.
To kill time, I am writing a best-seller, ‘My Favorite Hospitals’.
l scratched Bendigo ‘coz l died there last year. Quite off-putting.
The day starts with a rigorous interrogation. Nurses have no shame.
Nurse Caruthers; ” Have you opened your bowels today Mr. Laycock?”
“Yes ma’am, I opened them up and had a good look inside, all hunky-dory in there”.
“Have you moved your bowels?”
“No I haven’t. They are still between my stomach and my anal sphincter, l hope.”
“Have you passed a stool?”
“Why yes I did, I passed one in the corridor just now”.
“Have you passed a stool thru your bowels?”
“No I certainly have not. I haven’t even eaten a stool lately”.
They are all scratching their noggins by now, trying ever so hard to stay decent.
“Ok Smarty-pants, have you done a shit, a terd, a crap, a bog or a pooh lately?
Well naturally l was shocked that a public servant would use such obscene language in a public place. I went as red as a beetroot.
After gathering my composure l managed to blurt out, ” Why didn’t you ask me before, instead of beating around the bush and being all coy. Yes, I went to the human bio-waste transfer station, placed my rectum directly above the disposal portal, and employed my personal bio-waste extrusion apparatus to squeeze out a big steamy grunter.
It was magnificent!
I couldn’t make myself flush it down, so I left it for those who followed to admire and envy.
Only now do I begin to understand the pleasure women must feel extruding fully incubated embryos through their reproductive portals.
*You might be surprized to learn that the whole hospital is actually run by the nurses.
I am told Rehab upstairs has one in the day time, and surgery obviously needs the odd doctor or two from time to time, but apart from that, we only see a doctor if the nurses ask for one, otherwise they are running the whole damn operation, all day and all night, and doing a bloody good job!
Maybe we should ask them to run the country, couldn’t do any worse than the latest batch of knuckle heads?
Ben Boyang 19/9/21