Let’s first take a moment to recognize the birthdays of Dr. Jonas Salk, Bowie Kuhn and Veronica Gamba on this Sunday the 28^th of October.  With only 58 days until Christmas, you will want to get shopping before all the Swiss Colony Beef Logs are gone.  On this day in 1492, Columbus, still futilely searching for the Indies, discovers Cuba (oooh, so close).  In 1961 ground is broken for Municipal (Shea) Stadium in New York and in 1965 the Gateway Arch in St Louis is completed.    It is Foundation of the Republic Day in Czechoslovakia, tomorrow is Labour Day in New Zealand and also Veterans Day in some states.  I guess they want to get a jump on the holiday sales.

Last weekend was an interesting weekend for us.  We spent a good deal of it in the ER at our local hospital.  I was originally going to talk about Halloween here.  I wanted to discuss my costume ideas, such as wearing roller skates and going as a pull-toy or wrapping myself in plastic wrap and going as a sausage … but I digress.  My father-in-law has been going through some difficult times with his health and we had to take him to the ER last Saturday.  Sitting there waiting for test results and doctors, I had a chance to observe the “action” in this facility.

One of the things that struck me was how, when a doctor went into one of the cubicles, the first question was, “So how are we feeling today?”  The person is in a bed in a hospital ER.  If you had to guess how they were feeling, wouldn’t you naturally assume not well?  Or do some people come in just to waste five or six hours in a gown that opens in the back, lying on a plastic covered mattress. 

This was not our first trip to an ER and there are certain things you can always count on.  One is the requisite drunk person who lies there rambling to him or herself and anyone else in the area and getting up to wander around aimlessly.  I am not positive, but I think the drunk person is a state requirement to maintain your certification as an ER.  Another is that some people bring lunch or dinner because they know they are going to be there a while, so you end up smelling pizza, burgers, etc..  There is also the person who spends the entire time you are there vomiting loudly enough to be heard in the next town.  My father-in-law was admitted and we were able to get out of there after only six hours.

We went home thinking that we were glad to be out of there and would not have to go through that again for some time.  Not so!  The next morning, my wife and I were on our way back because of an problem I was having.  During triage, the nurse, in the course of the intake, asked me if I am sexually active.  I chuckled and told her that I am almost 63 and lucky to any kind of active.  Anyway …

The short version is that I had a urinary tract infection.  At one point, there were no cubicles available, so I was on a bed in the hallway.  A nurse came by and said they would have a space for me soon.  I said, “Fine.  As long as it is in time for the Giants game at 1 PM.”  But there I was, lying on a bed in the hall and this nice looking woman comes up to me and introduces herself as the doctor.

We discussed my problem and she began a cursory examination, checking my breathing, listening to my heart, pressing my belly to see if I had pain, etc.  Then, because of the issue that brought me there, she starts to grope my “equipment” and two things occur to me.  One, she does not seem to be enjoying what she is doing and two, neither do I.  I will attribute her lack of enjoyment to having done this so many times.  My problem is that I had no response.  Let’s face it, activity there is activity there, regardless of the reason. Yet, there was no response.  Just another issue of getting older, I guess.  Finally, they moved me to a cubicle and I was in time to see the first part of the game.  They ultimately confirmed the infection, gave me prescriptions and sent me on my merry, but  unresponsive, way. 

The following evening, I was back in the ER with more problems in the same area.  This time I was given a far more extensive examination.  More blood was taken, more checking of breathing and heart beat. No groping this time, but I was probed in a place where, if I was in prison, I would have gotten cigarettes when it was done.  My long-suffering wife, the lovely Elaine and I were there for 10 hours.  The result was that I was diagnosed with Hemorrhagic Cystitis, or in layman’s terms, a urinary tract infection, or in hospital parlance a UTI.  Just in case you were wondering, 10 hours is a LONG time to be in the ER, or anywhere, if drinks and snacks are not being served.

So that was our 3-day ER saga.  Not a way to spend a weekend if you have the choice, but, hey, life goes on.  Now go out and enjoy the day and stay out of the ER.