Listen to me

My blog for today is called, "LISTEN to me." I'm mad as hell and I'm, I'm going to take it whenever it gets dished out. The only safe place in this world for great service is Disney World.

Scene 1: Arrive at Allegiance Hospital. Parking lot.
Act 1: There is no handicapped parking left. I realize that it is because every white trash redneck bum can get a card from their doctor or use Uncle Jubal's from when he had his bunion removed.

Scene 2: Go to patient registration.
Act 2: Greeted by a caring staff. Concerned and helpful. Escorted to our destination: Scheduled Patient Care. Left by kind and caring staff expecting the rest of our visit to be just as good.

Scene 3: Scheduled Care Room
Act 3: We were received cordially. Moments later we were asked if my father could stand or take some steps out of his wheelchair. He isn't able to. He had polio when he was twelve and walked with crutches and braces for years and finally had to go to a wheelchair. We asked if there was a Hoyer lift available as he had worn his sling so he could be lifted on to the bed.
"We don't have those," the nurse replied. "Anyway, I don't know how to use one."
I replied, "You could learn." My father is a large man with very limited use of his upper body and none of his lower body. This is my favorite part of this play. Three security guards were called in to lift him on to the bed. Yes, I said security guards. They all grabbed the straps of his sling and on three lifted and slammed him on the table. He was in excruciating pain. Not the fault of the security guards mind you. They left and went back to their jobs. I was doing the mumbling bitching routine. Just enough so they could hear me. You know how that is. The nurse talked with my husband and she was saying they just don't have much call to warrant having a lift around. She asked why he wasn't able to walk and Robert told her of the polio at age 12 in 1940. She was surprised that he didn't have the vaccine. After all, it came out, oh let's see, 15 f'ing years after he had it! My husband requested that they find a lift when the procedure was over to get him off the table and back into his chair. Voila'! Less than ten minutes later one had arrived. When it was time to get him in his chair a qualified person had to do it. An employee of Allegiance Hospital. She arrived and was very caring and helpful. Dad was put back into his chair, uneventfully I might add, and we left.

Scene 4: Back to parking lot.
Act 4: I did nothing but bitch all the way home.

Closing Scene: We arrive home safely. I'm still bitching. Dad has lunch. Gets into his LazyBoy and the day continues on as if nothing ever happened. Well, almost. I ripped into anyone that tried to talk to me because I was still furious and waiting for my head to fly off into outer space.

Lesson learned: There isn't one. Unless you call realizing that no one really gives a rat's ass if you aren't happy. You are on your own, folks.