He gives one last high five as he spins out of the room. Already his name is lost in the oblivion that is called LIVERLAND. He worked the night shift last night here at the "U".
Notbillybob and he jawed all night long abut the old days, and San Diego, a daughter born at Balboa Naval hospital, and small ships and "The good ol Navy" from the 32nd street Navy base to North Island Naval air station, to last but definitely NOT least, THE Naval Training Center on Rosecrans, as seen in the Tom Cruise movie Top Gun.
This nurse had been stationed on board a 7th fleet fast frigate called the USS Meyercord FF 1058.
He was an OS2, or operation specialist second class petty officer. Just like Phil. Ops. Operations. An Ops guy.
Before the night shift came on, Notbillybob Choked back the sadness when things didn't go well during the Platelet/ Warfarin teeter totter that everyone took turns on yesterday. Bood is clotting too slow. Now too fast. Now to slow. OOPS, again too fast! Toot Toot understands all too well... this up and down ride. So does Ma. Mas' is related to blood sugar.
Toots is related to INR. Clotting time. They wanted his clotting time to be plenty fast so that when they took out his chest tube, there would be minimal bleeding, if any. When the platelets finally arrived, the nurse was bummed. They just weren't going in fast enough. They were burning daylight. Past noon now. The plan for going home was fading... into the amoniated haze of LIVERLAND.
LIVERLAND is a place where computers revert back to Windows 98 machines, where there is no cruise control, or frequent flyer miles.
There are no cell phones in liverland. Mobiles, yes, but like the big ol brick from Miami Vice. Hold the pickles hold the lettuce will upset us, Hell no ,no,no,no
You cannot have it your way in LIVERLAND,
and if you want to flirt with the girl two rows ahead of you in your Biology class, you're going to have to do it by passing a note just like the rest of us.
Speech is slurred, keys get lost, I mean really lost. You might show up for a doctors appointment which was a real bitch to get in the first place. They put you on standby, and called you last week to tell you there was an opening, and did you want it. Only to be told now that you had missed by a day. Yesterday the doctor had clinic. Today he is in surgeries all day, I'm sorry. And no, we cannot do anything about the fee, sorry.
And if you want to go home lickity split from your super-major chest wall operation to remove a severely diseased, crushed from inside rib bone from the anterior left costal area under notbillybob's armpit,
you gotta get there by taking the normal path, the unbeaten one.
The one where the labs are normal, or somewhat normal,
The one which doesn't go straight through the middle of this oozy, wierd slow lane.
He's Home, now. Yesterday, they opened his cage, and let him fly away. There are after care orders, and one stitch to remove in follow up clinic. Go figure, they ripped out a chicken leg size hunk from the chest wall, and just glued it back together, placed some steri strips, and wa la!
Be on your way young man. The biopsy report is pending. & to 10 days out. It was sent to Johns Hopkins pathology lab. Or so they hope.
Click on the image for the cool Panorama effect