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I fucking hate oatmeal.
One day most of us will get there. Our bodies will begin to fail us. Our once fertile minds while be reduced to the consistency of rice pudding. Memories will become a jumble of events with neither accuracy nor chronology. Being a Murse I see the ravages of time on a daily basis. The elderly are the core group of patients in the ER. Thanks to the miracle of modern medicine we can dope them up and keep them alive long enough to slowly drain away any of the inheritance that they planned to leave their children. Kinda like leeches -- except good for you. You know -- like in the Dark Ages. Everyday I see people creep closer to death, one tennis ball covered walker shuffle at a time.
I see what gravity does to what I'm sure was a once supple and firm female body. However, said body was supple and firm during the Eisenhower administration. Now it is nothing more than a wrinkled mass of sagging flesh, liver spots, and varicose veins. Whenever I see a woman with a nice rack, and by "nice", I mean: She has a balcony you could do Shakespeare from. I can't help but to picture said rack 50 years hence. You may see a girl that you would like to Motorboat and play 'just the tip' with.
I see the future gentle readers. And the future is not good. The future sags down to her belly button with areolas that look like Oscar Meyer cold cuts and nipples that resemble dehydrated plums. Did I mention facial warts and spindly chest/chin hair? No? Most of the grandma's we see look like 8th graders trying to grow a goatee.
I see what smoking does. (Yes, I'm a smoker, but I'm also a world-class hypocrite - so there) Now sure, in your twenties and possibly early thirties you don't really see what damage smoking does to your features. But after smoking for the better part of a century your face will look like my scrotum, just not as hairy and hanging slightly to the left. Your mouth will be a fucking mess. Trust me. Recessed gums, and teeth the color of post-it notes are what you can look forward to. If you're lucky. A trachea tube and a voice synthesizer await you if your not. But, it is always funny when an old lady who sounds like Stephen Hawking, asks you for one of your Camels as she is being discharged with shortness of breath. Sure Grandma, light it up. You beat the curve, why not.
Readers, you haven't truly lived till you see a woman cover the hole in her throat to hawk a brownish green loogie on a Coke machine and watch it slide down as she lights up another with shaky hands.
My first year in the ER we had two ambulances come in from the same nursing home. The occupants of the ambulances had gotten into a fight over the affections of one of the ladies in the home. Apparently, the scuffle started over who got to sit next to her in the dinging hall.
I pictured it thusly - In the blue corner: weighing in at 175 pounds, and standing 5' 8" tall. Sporting a 12-3 record with an artificial hip and glaucoma. Fighting out of Davenport, Iowa - Efrem "The Executioner" Weatherby. And fighting out of the red corner: weighing in at 167 pounds, standing 5'10'' tall with a hump. Sporting a 10-2-1 record with one no contest due to a colostomy bag, and once told Truman to, "Fuck himself in a cocked hat". Representing the city of Grosse Pointe, Michigan is - Jasper "Kid" Surowiecki. The winner of today's contest gets the carnal rights to Agnes Wrinklesnatch and a year's supply of Cialis. "With Cialis, you can be ready when the moment is right."
Jasper beat the shit out of Efram with his cane until Efram pulled out his cath tube and a combo of piss and blood caused Jasper to concede the match. So when you get a call from the medics to expect an incoming septuagenarian with multiple cranial contusions and lacerations as well as an octogenarian with a ruptured Foley catheter, you usually don't expect that they got into a fight. Especially over a woman. But then again I've never gotten blown by a woman with no teeth and her own oxygen supply, so there's that.
Some of the old patients are cranky, just taking up space waiting to die. But a lot of them are genuinely funny and make taking care of them enjoyable. We have our regulars who I'm on a first name basis with. I think some of them come in just because they are lonely and insurance will pay for it anyway so why not. Normally I get pissed when people treat my ER like it's a fucking club or homeless shelter. But with a few of the old folks it doesn't bother me. We have this one guy, Grover, who comes in a few times a month with 'catheter trouble'. Or as I like to call it Codename: Bubba Ho-Tep. He's one of the funniest people I've ever met. He checks in, we shoot the shit, and then he tries to bribe me (like I'm some fucking maitre'd) so he can get one of the hot nurses to take care of him. "Hey fella, here's a twenty. Is the blonde with the nice tits here today? No? Well how about the brunette with the tongue ring and the lace bra? Her neither? What about the red-head with the soft hands? She is? Yahtzee!"
Then we have this one guy named Wayne, about 70 years old, who has a little bit of a drinking problem. But he is the funniest old drunk you could ever chance to meet. He's another regular who always recognizes me, but can never remember my name. Wayne cracks me up. He can't stand his kids and I've seen him throw a bowl of custard at his son and tell them to either let him drink or let him die. He's like an alcoholic General John Stark.
When I come in it's: "There's the doctor with the funny name! How'ma I doin today doc? Ya wanna drink? Shhhhh, I snuck it in my jockey shorts so my goddamn daughter woudnta find it. Ya know, she once slept with a black feller that one. Shamed me infrona the whole neighborhood too. I want her out the will. Goddamn out! Write this shit down boy! Write it down! Say ... if they keep my in this goddamn place over night, couldya bring me a bottle of Johnnie Walker? Nona the cheap stuff mind ya. I'll leave you my Buick. Runs real good, just a lil scratch from the one time I hit deer. Least I think it was a deer. Do deer wear Casio's? Hahahaha. Just funnin, I hit a Mexican. But he had it comin'. You can ask anybody. I swear - you shit yerself onetime an everyone thinks you can't take care of yourself. Wanna put me in a home 'neverythin. Goddamn kids. Whatever you do - don't have kids. Fucking useless. What I gotta do to get somethin to eat 'round here? You tell the cook to shove this chicken salad up his ass, ya hear me? Got any French Toast? Did I ever tell you about the King of Syrup?"
The cantankerous and racist elderly are the kings of ER unintentional comedy. They'll bitch about every detail of their current state of health. "I got the shingles, it hurts to pee, I've been constipated for 5 days, my gout is acting up again, and I got sores from my diaper." Changing a baby's shitty diaper is one thing. Wiping creamed spinach, cottage cheese, and canned pears out of some guy's ass who fought the Kaiser is quite another. Three words: gray, asshole, hair.
They'll complain about every aspect of their care. "This room smells funny and it's too cold in here". No grandma, it's not cold in here and it just smells funny because you're just dying. "You smell like alcohol. Are you drunk?" No Ma'am that's hand sanitizer. "Why are you asking me what pills I take? You should know what pills I take. I'm not a doctor." The reason we ask you what pills you take, you senile piece of shit is so that we don't fucking kill you. Looks like its oral temp time with the rectal thermometer for you. "Ouch, that needle hurts." Well that's cause it's fucking sharp you old shit bag. "I don't want to calm down." You will go to sleep or I will put you to sleep. Check out the nametag, you're in my world now.
When you wheel the old racists out of triage and they demand that they don't want any coloreds taking care of them I can't help but chuckle. I laugh because about 2/3rd of the Nursing assistants are either from some Third world African country or the Philippines (so they might as well be black). We have one guy who will actually call the Indian doctor Hajji to his face, say he doesn't want to be seen by that Heb doctor ever again, and whenever he sees an Asian comes into his room will say, "You better be able speke Engrish". I can't imagine what it must be like to spend your life hating the people who will eventually determine your level of care, change your diapers, and spoon feed you.
And when I get that feeling, I want Sexual Healing
Here's a little tip: you know how you don't fuck with the people who handle your food? Well you REALLY don't want to fuck with the people who may have to insert something into or shave an orifice below your equator.
So TPP Faithful if I can offer some advice - don't let yourselves get that old. The first time you can't make it to the bathroom without either shitting or pissing yourself that's when you should look into checking the fuck out of here. The fun part of the ride is over. What are you gonna do anyway: Wait for the Cubs to win a World Series? See us colonize Mars? Jetpacks?
Go out on you own terms. Die with some dignity. If heart disease, an aneurysm, or cancer doesn't kill you - all you have to look forward to is: erectile dysfunction, bald spots, sagging tits, back pain, epidural steroid injections, anti-depressants, rotted teeth, Fixodent, varicose veins, CBS, diabetes, blood in your urine, thyroid medication, gall stones, Old Country Buffet, constipation, Bingo, colonoscopies, blood in your stool, anemia, hysterectomies, Pinochle, blood pressure meds, Grandkids who remember your birthday, pneumonia, kidney stones, carrying around an oxygen tank like a retarded midget on wheels, loss of balance, multiple falls, artificial knees & hips, pacemakers, stroke, adult diapers, genitalia that looks like it was washed with a pair of dirty football cleats, colostomy bags, bed sores, catheterization, a feeding tube, and life support.
How 'bout a warm glass of SHUT-THE-HELL-UP!
All of this awaits as you slowly fade into oblivion and the issue of your seed resents you for taking what little money you have left that could improve the sad state of their life -minus burial cost. Which they will of course blame on you. Believe me. Most families would rather push the old folk out on a fucking ice float than visit them in the hospital.
So I ask you, TPP Faithful: If you could go out on you own terms, how would you go? Let's get drinking yourself to death, overdosing on drugs and during sex out of the way.
Personally, I'm partial to the leaping off a tall structure in a jumpsuit filled with candy so I come down like a fucking pinata. That, or in a back alley knife fight with 6 Saudi Arabian midgets dressed like The Original X-Men.
Posts: 2047 Rank: 5 Joined:
2/27/2007
Location:
Ventura, CA
Posted: 9/17/2007 10:11:25 AM
You get a solid 5.
I would like to go out by being shot in the head right after I infiltrated the Iranian government headquarters and beheaded Mahmoud Ahmadinejad with a paring knife.
Posts: 144 Rank: 37 Joined:
8/29/2007
Location:
Boston, MA
Posted: 9/17/2007 10:12:49 AM
Hilarious article, Toque.
Reading this reminded me of the volunteer work I once did at north shore hospital, filling in bingo letters for 117 year-olds. My supervisor would make me sit next to a couple soon-to-be croakers and basically play bingo for them - I'm pretty sure they couldn't hear shit. Should I feel bad that I'd pocket the 50 cents winnings and give ol' granny a pat on the back?
Exactly why I never intend on getting old. Can't think of anything more ungraceful. Kudos to you for having the job and not killing someone. Used to work with old people all the time at a previous job and HATED it. It's like the convert back into a 2 yr. old and since I hate kids.... Excellent Cialis pitch by the way.
Posts: 1542 Rank: 6 Joined:
12/7/2006
Location:
New York, NY
Posted: 9/17/2007 10:27:21 AM
If at age 26 I'm starting to feel old I don't see myself making past 60 or so. Mostly because of all the gross shit you described here and also I had to watch my grandma spend the last 12 years of her life with alzheimer's and it was god-damend depressing. I went with my family to see her and I had to walk out and wait by the car becasue the whole thing was more than I could pretend to deal with. I feel like a prick for it. Anyway, if I can't use the john properly or remember my friends' names then it might be time for me to go: sort of stealing from Spartan here, but I'd like to go out on a kamikaze mission by parachuting into a terrorist camp armed to the teeth and go out in a blaze of glory.
Over/Under on Grandpa Simpson monologues in here today...5.
Was out drinking one night and witnessed a homeless cripple fight. Both of the participants had electric wheelchairs that looked to be first generation they were so old. It was hilarious! One knocked the other out of his chair and then "sped" off. You can damn well bet that if I get old, I'm getting a Hoveround. That's age entitlement!
If only the Squawks could be as consistent as you are. Pinata death is legendary.
SS, get that photoshop going of me somewhere tropical with cocaine, Marisa Miller, and Briana Banks surrounding me somewhere tropical while drinking champagne.
Banged Sarah saturday night, ABC.
Death: Shot in back of the head while eating onion rings with my family and Journey playing in the background.
Posts: 2831 Rank: 2 Joined:
12/7/2006
Location:
Philadelphia, PA
Posted: 9/17/2007 10:43:45 AM
Fantastic. You summed up everything perfectly. We have so many broken hip cases here where the replacements don't take and they end up falling and breaking it again and then suing. What the fuck is an eighty-4 year old lady going to do during trial? what's she gonna do with money if she wins? why bother even fixing your hip? I would just stay on the floor until I died.
I'm pretty sure I'm dying when I'm fifty-three, but I would love to go out at 37 before my tits sag at all. And I would love to go out terrorizing my friends. I always wanted to go sky diving with all of them and have them all go first and land safely and then I want to jump, but never open my parachute. Just fall straight down, smacking the fucking ground with such force that body parts flail all over. and on my way down, I want to scream one of those unforgettable screams that will echo in their heads for ever and right before I hit the ground, I want to start flapping my arms like a bird, ya know, for some comedy.
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