morghus' place

happening today. You know, one of those days where nothing interesting has happened, and I’m looking for something to happen, or perhaps pondering what to do to make something happen. What I’ve done the last two-three days you ask? Hum… I’m asking myself the exact same question.

Three days ago, it might’ve been wednesday for all I can remember properly so I’ll check the program with the hours written up – I was at the doctors. I went off to visit the doctor pretty early – I’m constantly shinie’d (“Oooh, shiny”) by stuff, so I always plan plenty of buffer-time for the things I do, which was a good idea since I got there 5 minutes before I was supposed to meet, despite supposedly needing only 15 minutes.

On the other hand it wasn’t as good an idea as you’d have thought, but since I can’t predict the future it was still a good idea nonetheless because there was a patient in the doctor’s office, an elderly man who was, judging by the sounds in there, not feeling all too well.

Seeing as noone was in a panic I didn’t think it was all too serious, it turned out it wasn’t very serious either, and promptly sat down to read “March to the Sea” by David Weber on my HTC Touch Dual (Yes, I love flaunting my little gem, suck it up!) while listening to music on the same gagdet. I think I sat there for around an hour, maybe a bit less, I’m not too sure.

Time flies by when I’m actually enjoying myself (I mean, during certain night-time enjoyment 3 hours went by without me noticing it, you know…). After the hour had gone by, or what I think is an hour, my mother suddenly bursts around the corner (from the direction of the elderly man who wasn’t feeling too well) and starts babbling incomprehensibly (I was still listening to music, also followed by me trying to turn down the music so that it wouldn’t be all that incomprehensible anymore, while she was still talking).

It turned out, to my surprise, that my grandfather was in there, on the ambulance-trolley-thing (what’s it called, for real?) with a bloody face. By all accounts he’d been nose-bleeding for a major part of the night, and it’d taken quite some time to get him to the doctors, where they spent around an hour, or more, in getting to the part where they thought a hospital is a good idea.

There was an initial shock in recognizing my grandfather where I’d been thinking there’d be a stranger before, but it quickly passed when I saw the calm of the people around me (excluding my mother who looked like she’d been eating way too much sugar, but I’m used to that in my mother, by now). I stood there wondering, in some odd sequence, where to put my cell-phone (the pocket), which pocket (jacket-pocket?), which jacket-pocket (breast-pocket, middle one). This decision took some time because I was partially listening to my mother talking about my grandfather’s condition.

My mother interpreted my silent staring as “shock and fear”, which she quickly related to others that were keen on hearing about it later in the evening. That’s what she said on the phone when talking to someone, I overheard it, accidentally. Which she incidentally didn’t want me to hear. It might’ve been that kind of reaction from me, but I’m not about to admitting to it, I’ll be damned if I’ll be so “unmanly” as that!

Anyways, I was holding my jacket, and while I was doing that my mother started mentioning that she wanted to tag along with the ambulance-personnel, and she could do with a cell-phone and wanted mine (by this time I’d gotten my phone into the pocket, with the wiring that follows).

My mother still clings to this old shitty Nokia with a near-defect battery that I’ve told her to get rid of or replace ages ago, or get more chargers to place around her life strategically, because not getting a hold of her because her battery’s out is getting pretty annoying.

Of course I hesitate, and am about to argue wildly about, in giving away my precious phone (with the book and the music and the appointments and the clock and the alarms that I’m so partially dependant on) because she still hasn’t gotten a car-charger/new phone/pedal-charger/whatever!

The ambulance-personnell points out they’ve got a car-charger (is that the word? I’ll use it for now) with them that might fit her particular model, and that she could use that, which stopped all the arguing before it even started. Thank god. It’s not seemly to be petty like that in front of people with bigger problems. It still bugs me.

So they run off in a hurry, well, not that much of a hurry, but it’s faster than your average sunday-driver that thinks making haste is a tool of the devil and should be burnt at the stake, dunked in holy water, or called it in to the police (after having pulled over to the side and switching on the parking lights). Those people piss me off by the way.

By now in this little story you’d think that I’d soon be off to enjoy the fresh air and the trip back to work (this whole event was during work-hours by the way), but you’re so wrong I can feel all the wrong all the way to Modalen. There’re 5 people in line before me, a toddler and her mom, an old woman, a second old woman, a third old woman, a fourth, but young woman, who looked like she wanted to burn the place down of boredom (13-14 or so, with the patience-span of a pin, kind of like my attention-span?).

So I sat around for another 1.5 hours reading my book, listening to my music, constantly shifting in my chair (I might be engrossed in a book, but that doesn’t stop me from persistently needing to shift, it’s so annoying, but otherwise I get stiff and cranky) before the doctor popped around the corner and tried to get my attention for a few seconds before I even registered she was there (exciting battle in the book, sorry doc…).

I come in, I see the old office that I’ve been in a few times before to no avail, and I think “Atleast she’s good-looking and seems bright” (compared to the other doctors I’ve had to deal with in my life). One of the first things I notice is that she’s got the same phone as me. \o/ Now there’s a good start if I ever saw one.

A quick summary of it all would be that she seemed interested, quick to bring forth good advice (what I think is good advice anyways), and listened attentively to everything I mentioned – from sleep to concentration to shoulder to dust-allergies. You have no idea how bloody encouraging that is if you haven’t been sent to take a blood sample twice by the same doctor for the same things with the same results.

I mean, she even ordered some nasal spray and anti-something for my shoulder before I even knew what had happened (hence the cryptic and dubious twitter-messages that I realized was easily misinterpreted…):

The next appointment might resolve some more, or do even more good, than this one. Which is… crap. I need to find the note with the time on and jot it on my phone. Bowls!

Long post, way too long, enjoy!

[Edit: Atleast three f****** edits so far. I'm in too much of a hurry I think]

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