Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Good Life

Another satisfying day in the hospital. Sounds a bit strange, doesn't it?

Things started off slowly. Tall & Gorgeous Nurse was working, but said not one word to me all day...didn't even return a smile. Perhaps she was having a rough time of it. Perhaps she knows I'm interested, finds the prospect appalling, and has shut down to shut me out. It most certainly would not be the first time. heh.

There was, however, another batch of lovely young women with whom I had the pleasure of working and I took a liking to one in particular. She's rather tall, as well. I've never met so many tall women in one place in my life. It's almost as if I've hit the jackpot.

Over the stretch of about 45 minutes, just about every patient decided they'd ring me up...and say nothing. Some of them would yank the cord from the wall, as well, which set off an extraordinarily annoying and persistent bell. This sent me into a right state of panic, especially when none of the nurses were anywhere to be seen. Luck was on my side, however, because each and every time was an accident. Whew. I was, however, on edge for the rest of the day. As I headed back to the work I was doing during the last alarming episode, I got a slight hint of what Maha was thinking when she titled her blog Call Bells Make Me Nervous, and it actually made me smile. A lot. Grinning, even.

I visited each patient a bit later in the afternoon and my first stop was with a lovely elderly couple. We had a lengthy conversation which was enjoyable to the last word. I found it quite difficult to leave, especially as I made observations about the patient's physical appearance and their meaningful participation in our conversation. Something was amiss; there was sort of a "lost at sea" look on the face at times and during those spells, there was a bit of inappropriate excitement in speech. It was actually quite endearing, as if the patient just happened to be a person bursting with passion and lust for life.

Almost everyone else I called upon did not seem too terribly concerned with whether I stayed or went. Some were watching The Masters which provided some light and pleasant conversation, except when it came to Mr. Woods. The husband of one patient, after I expressed my disappointment in the scandal, seemed to become a bit agitated and kept mentioning that he's a brilliant golfer. You can bet that conversation went far from golf just as soon as I could steer it away... and I removed myself almost as quickly. Yikes.

Yet another senile old lady told me I'm cute. Twice. Then she told me her life story. She had no visitors all day long and I felt quite bad about that, so I listened patiently and stayed actively engaged in the conversation. Everything she said was pretty ordinary, until she began to touch on some rather unique life experiences. There was nothing too terribly scandalous, but things got a bit more fantastic as she went on. I couldn't decide if she was just doing her best to talk and talk so that she could keep me there, or if she was having a spell. Still don't know for sure, but being called cute two weeks in a row has done a little for my confidence, even though the women paying the compliment are 50 years my senior. Why don't any women my age tell me these things?!

I got to do some chart assembly, which was a breeze due to a job I had years ago. It brought back some sweet, and some sour, memories of that job...spent a lot of time analysing some of the good and a lot of the bad I had with Old Flame. Wouldn't you know that she rang me up when I was on my way home? We'd not spoken in a while...maybe a week or two, which is really odd for us.

It was off to the driving range with me before I went home, and I'm sad to report that I still am not playing my best. The reasons why escape me. I had a much easier time of relaxing and clearing my mind and I felt good when it was all over, despite some terrible, terrible shots. Something felt funny after one of my last drives. There was good contact, great sound, but I felt my club shake halfway through my follow-through...and then it felt as though I was not holding much of a club at all. I looked and MY CLUBHEAD WAS GONE! Immediate sadness filled up within. That was my favourite club...first I ever owned, first I ever used. Me and that driver are soul mates. I couldn't find the clubhead anywhere. The girl in the shop said it happens all the time and had me describe it so, when it's found, they can hang onto it for me.

I hope it isn't too expensive to have it reattached!

Ah, watching "Good Neighbours" and I find Felicity Kendal highly attractive. mmmhmmmm.

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