A short Treatise on Health Care Professionals. . . in the form of a Telegraph Road Report. . .

Ok. Telegraph Road Report. Sitting at the hospital this morning, half awake and slap happy, I was reminded of a hospital experience from a few years ago. T'was the middle of the night, if my memory serves me correctly, (which it usually doesn't). We had just been delivered to Mrs. Thorgrim's room when a nurse comes in, looks at Melissa laying in the bed with IV lines all over, monitors next to her. Heart beat doo-hickey attached to her finger while she's wearing on of those World Famous hospital robes what shows your entire ass, looks at me standing there in the corner, wearing Levi's, Viking boots, Black Sabbath T-shirt, flame-thrower and a Viking ax, looks back at Melissa in the bed and asks her, "Are you the patient? The new patient?" This is who they send in to deliver meds through large needles and take vitals measurements? How must one answer?? "Nope! She's the forkin' mailman lady!" I swear. These things write themselves. Troo Story!

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