Desperate Measures

Actual Date: October 2, 2010

Grandma checked-in to the hospital yesterday for congestive heart failure and pneumonia. It sounds grim, but this stubborn Irish woman is not going down so easily. She's much better now and I'm sure we'll take her back to the nursing home soon, which means she'll also head home pretty soon.

Anyway, our new surroundings are pretty chic. Of course, a new environment also brings challenges.

The room is significantly larger; thereby, improving my quality of life. We also have a fabulous TV. Unfortunately, I can't seem to understand why the hospital only has 40 channels and my grandma's refusal to watch any of them. The quality of food has also increased and I'm confident I can identify everything on her plate. This matters not to my once ravenous patient as she now finds food to be quite the annoyance.

A wonderful plate of spaghetti arrived this evening. I worked hard to convince grandma it was worth a taste. And by working hard I mean I told her the doctor said if she didn't eat spaghetti and meatballs, he would purée it and send it through her veins intravenously. Whatever works, right?

Well, what failed to work was the fancy, three-story tray she is supposed to eat from. As I struggle to get the tray positioned to her majesty's standards, I'm barraged with verbal abuse.

"Oh dear God, help me. God, oh God, shit," she yells.

After enduring fifteen versions if the above repertoire, I was about to lose my shit. Not only was I proving incapable of handling a rolling tray, but I was also being screamed at as if I was a murderer from which she needed protection. It's a tray full of spaghetti and I'm a normal, capable adult, goddammit! I grab a to-go box filled with angel food cake, throw the cake away and fill the box with spaghetti.

"What do I do with this?!"

"You eat it," I explain in a voice teetering on the edge of madness.

Slowly she begins to eat. Meanwhile she's glaring at me and I begin to wonder if she has fastened some sort of prison shank in her bed.

She eats one box full of spaghetti and demands I remove the tray immediately. After determining it was safe to approach, I cleaned up and sat down. That is when I realized I had to pee.

I actually knew I had to pee about three hours earlier, but was so busy I seemed to have forgot. The situation was becoming dire and I decided to get up and search for a restroom. As I sped down the hall, I spotted my grandma's doctor.

We had been told he would stop in sometime that evening for an update. No one was in the room with my grandma and I was sure he was heading down the hall to see her. Now what do I do?! I can run to the bathroom and miss the doctor's evaluation, or run back to the room and pray I don't just pee my pants.

Weighing the pros and cons, I figured I'd probably get yelled at by my mom if I missed the evaluation and that was worse than peeing my pants, so I turned around and went back in the room. I sat back on the couch, crossed my legs and prayed.

"Where is this guy?!" I think to myself. "I just saw him in the hall...there's only a few rooms in this unit...he's got to be here soon."

A five minute wait turns into ten minutes. I decide to hunt him down. Just as I exit my grandma's room, I see Dr. Bald Dude on the computer.

"OK...he's probably reviewing her chart. No big deal. I can wait five more minutes...I think..."

Another ten minutes passes and Bald, M.D. is no where in sight. I'm wiggling like a maniac to keep myself from peeing. If he had come in at this point, I'm sure I would have been admitted to the psych ward.

Five more minutes....I could actually feel my belly bloating...I was literally on the verge of peeing my pants. Again, here I am...an otherwise normally functioning adult about to lose my shit (or piss) in this hospital. Get it together!

Suddenly, there's a rustling at the door and I see my aunt struggling to put on her MRSA gown (you have to wear this silly yellow gown in the hospital until grandma is cleared for MRSA...big pain in the ass if you ask me).

Adrenalin rushed through me like never before as I sprinted past her screaming something to the effect of "BATHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

I had never been so happy to see my aunt....and the doctor....well, he didn't show up that night.