Sunday, September 16, 2007

My father is staying in a nice hospital. It's clean, modern, and the employees appear to be competent and helpful. It's the sort of place you'd want to be, if, for example, you were suffering through a massive heart attack where your major artery got blocked, hypothetically speaking. It is not the sort of place you'd want to be if, however, you were the squeamish son of someone who just suffered through a massive heart attack, hypothetically speaking.

I walked up to the hospital entrance yesterday, non-hypothetically speaking, dreading my visit. I don't care much for doctors, health care, or the general entropic processes which slowly degrade our bodies over time. Hospitals are the embodiment of all these unlikable things. In fact, hospitals are the Unhappiest Place on Earth.

Nobody looks forward to going to a hospital. No one has a good time there. If there's a ride involved, it's probably the worst ride of your life. The only good part about your visit is when you leave, and that's only if you leave with your eyes open.

Visitors shuffled through the hallways looking either grim, nervous, or faking bravery. Hospital residents were wheeled from place to place generally looking dead. Employees of the facility were a mixed lot, some radiating artificially generated spunkiness, while others exuded profound resignation from deep within their souls.

Even the cafeteria was miserable. The featured entrees on Saturday were an unappetizing beef brisket and and some anemic-looking honey fried chicken. It seemed criminal to serve unhealthy food at a health care facility, but I guess everyone needs job security.

My father nagged me during my visit today. He knew he had a captive audience. He begged me to have a cholesterol test, frequent check-ups, and just because he's sadistic, regular colonoscopies. I normally do my best to ignore my father's advice (it's how I prove I'm all growed up!), but if it'll keep me away from the hospital, maybe I'll consider it.

6 comments:

Janelle Renee said...

How long does he need to stay at the hospital? I hope it isn't for much longer, because it doesn't sound like it's the best place to be when one is trying to focus on getting better.

I assume that your father is in a Bay Area hospital, a hotbed of amazing food and top chefs. You'd think that our hospitals would serve food that is--at very least--decent. How disappointing.

Best wishes to your father for a speedy recovery.

Mike said...

Hi JR. It's really a perfectly nice hospital, as far as hospitals go. I just don't care for those places in general. But, yes, the food was especially disappointing. Hopefully they're feeding him something better (ha ha). And, thanks.

tinyhands said...

I'm sure he'll be back on his feet soon.

My father had a heart-attack at 51, over 11 years ago. That was followed shortly after by a quadruple bypass and a strict diet and exercise regimen. Within a year he was in the best shape, literally, of his life.

I know you take pretty good care of yourself, but go get the proof from a doctor. Annual physicals are easy, and required now at our age.

Mike said...

Tiny, yes, I have my physicals all planned out. I'm no spring chicken any more.

Tasty said...

Here's to yo' pops, and his constantly improving health. Here's to you, too, and your use of the word entropic.

Mike said...

Tasty, and my father would approve of the word entropy. He's all about thermodynamics.