Christmas Lunch

Hello Ladies,

Although I had intended to move on to another subject, I have to report our last day at the hospital. That is an interesting word, is it not? It means hospitality.

This hospital where Mr. S. was a patient for 10 days has the best of high-end hotel, airport,(providing a baggage trolley if you are juggling too many things on your way to the designated room)  gourmet restaurant, espresso and internet cafe, shopping mall, music center, and I-don't-know-what-else. There is probably a fitness center and a spa in there somewhere, too.

On the  day of our departure, someone from the restaurant brought us free tickets to a Christmas lunch which they provide each year for caregivers, doctors, nurses, and family members of patients.  I had been to the restaurant and the food kiosk before and thought it was great, but I was really delighted at what was done to create this special meal.

Decorations were corners filled with life-sized wintry scenes: deer and trees on beds of snow, snowmen and snow against backdrops of blue sky and stars, beautiful lights and unique trees.  

The live music was a man playing the flute and a woman playing a stringed instrument; all beautiful old-time carols, many of them religious.

I could not figure out why the physicians and nurses, assistants and other people came in their scrubs, still with their stethoscopes around their shoulders, and their blue hair caps.  I suppose they took lunch whenever they were able, in order to keep up with the demands on their time, and just showed up for lunch without changing their clothes.  It doesn't matter, but it was interesting to see us all mingling together, because in the old days, there was a lounge and lunch room for staff members only, and now, we all were able to eat together and the talk was so interesting. Doctors these days are like walking encyclopedias, willing to impart detailed knowledge on every cause of every malady, and have hopeful solutions which include vitamins and essential oils.

The first thing to greet us upon entering the dining room was a huge cart full of mandarin oranges with the leaves still on them. What a scent. 

Plates were filled with wonderfully prepared food,  (nothing mushy or canned or over-cooked, lots of fresh things) and some people took trays to the fireplace area in the hotel lobby and sat on the hearth or used nearby small tables for two and four. I saw a few patients in wheelchairs being pushed up to the tables to dine with friends and loved ones.  As Mr. S. was content with walking the halls, he declined to go to the dining room with me. His dinner was served in his room, on a table where he sat.

When it was time to go, I was given instructions on how to bandage his injured foot and then put to the test. For three days I did the job. It's a once-a-day thing. There is a pad that goes directly on the wounded area, called a "silver" pad which contains a mineral that aids in healing. The pad softens and turns into liquid after it is worn awhile. Mr. S. seems well, and I'm not babying him too much. When he first came home he wanted all kinds of chairs and things on wheels to hoist him up and spiff him up and coast him down the hallways, but his doctors want him upright and walking, varying that with moments of sitting with his foot elevated.  He isn't allowed to get old . He has too  much to do.

While Mr. S. was a-lyin' in his hospital bed, thinking about all that he wanted to finish at home in his office: writing, teaching, publishing, yard improvement, etc., he made a cartoon of the "grim reaper" -the angel that is waiting for you to die. The patient says, "I can't go yet. I haven't raked the leaves!" So the next frame shows the grim reaper helping him rake the leaves.  The next frame shows the patient saying, "Don't take me yet. I have to plant my garden." The reaper grabs a shovel and some seeds and stands alongside to plant.  The next frame says, "I can't go now. I still have to take out the trash." And there is the reaper taking out the trash, eager to get the job out of the way.  Eventually the grim reaper gets so tired of doing the man's chores, (including repairing the roof of the house) he gives up in exasperation and goes on to someone else.

I hope not to tell you any dreary stories like that, but this was one of Mr. S.'s dark humor cartoon strips. I suppose it has been thought of before, and other cartoonists have done it, but I always think what he does is so uniquely humorous (after I "get it").

Now that we are home, I'm catching up with laundry and everything else. I have been out to get groceries and look for things I never find. It is nice to be alive in this day and age when we can order so much more and have it all delivered.   I suppose "shipping" will always be a necessary service, no matter how modern we get. 

Today there was a great storm that passed through and rattled everything on the house, whistling and howling.  A big amount of rain was dumped on us, and the electric quit for several hours.  I went out to fill my thermoses with hot water at a restaurant and when I got home the lights were on. That is what we call Murphy's Law.

Still, in spite of the darkness inside, I was able to light candles and load the dishwasher, cleaning the kitchen quite nicely.  Sweeping the floor takes no electricity, and it was rather fun by candlelight. Especially was it nice when the electric lights came back on and there was no mess to clean up.

I have an e-book to read and hope to write a review for it here.

Have a lovely day and do something nice for yourself.