For some reason totally unconnected to the hospital & clinic, and not their fault in any way whatsoever, I associate my healthcare with having a good smoke. It's taken a while to figure out why that is. Part of it is that half a dozen medical men I knew at various stages of my life were fervent pipe smokers (and three I know at the present time enjoy cigars), part of it is the neighborhood where the hospital is located (and where everyone either has a relative who smokes, or IS the relative who smokes) and where frequently after doing anything at all locally I light up a pipe, and part of it undoubtedly is my own orneriness.
[Remarkably, orneriness is a characteristic I share with quite a number of their patients. And I've often run into patients of theirs within a two block radius after an appointment enjoying a ciggy, or at a bakery nearby getting themselves ever closer to full-blown diabetes and kidney failure.]
In all honesty, there is nothing quite as enjoyable as filling up a bowl and lighting it after being jabbed, pricked, pierced, and whatever else happens at the clinic. When I was in the ICU, the hotsauce improved my mood, but not nearly as much as lighting up when they kicked me out after a week. It testifies to their skill and expertise that I haven't been in the ICU since then.
Blood tests, vaccinations, firm instructions to this time provide a poo sample?
Why, I think that requires a pipe! I deserve a pipe!
My arm hurts. Time for a pipe.
Over the past five years I've had jabs so many times I've lost count, and except for the time they were wheeling me into surgery, I "rewarded" myself with a pipe immediately afterwards.
I would have done so then too, except, you know, smoking in the theatre is frowned upon.
And I had counted backwards from twenty and was out of it.
The illustration above shows the medical equipment needed to maintain the health and wellbeing of a stubborn Dutchman. The banana is included for scale, because most Americans need that.
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1 comment:
Stay well!
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