There's a point to this title, I promise.
On Friday, I was Hubby's designated driver to/from the hospital for his endoscopy. I am not a hospital person. I don't hyperventilate or anything, I just have hospital issues...like being conscious of wanting to wash my hands after touching the elevator button, or wondering where the nearest exit is for fresh air. See, issues.
But I had no quarrels being the D.D. since I wasn't the one being poked and proded. I assumed it would be some quick procedure...put him under, look around his throat and tummy, then wake him up and tell me to drive him home. In reality it was quick, but it still seemed like forever in the waiting room. I was so excited when they finally called my name into the back room. I wasn't ready for what I was shown. My Hubby was all tubed up with IV, oxygen and cords to his heart rate monitor. I went to his bedside and we talked for awhile, but my knees kept getting weak so I held onto the handrail of the bed for stability. Then to make me worse, the nurse came by to pull out his IV...Ack! I had to step outside of his curtained space so I didn't see something I didn't want to (read here).
THAT is when I realized the nurses were carting in patients along the opposite wall who had just had colonoscopys! Curtain after curtain, there were guys being asked to roll to their sides and let it rip! And these weren't your daily farts. These sounded like the loudest fake farts - like whoopie cushion farts. For some odd reason, this row of old men farting made my day! I was distracted from my hospital issues just long enough to get home to wash my hands (and have Hubby do the same).
We found this toy dinosaur in the back of one of our cars. Anyone willing to claim him?
Happy Saturday! Here's a peak at my old man stinker face: