Always one to take pride in my multi-tasking skills, I was listening avidly to a tale the Beard was spinning while trying to take care of some work. Oh, and did I mention, rumor is, the office is haunted--or so they say, and I've felt. Thum thum thum...cue eerie music here.
He claimed he was alone in the secure area when he heard someone bang their fist hard into one of the cabinets. Knowing fully well that no one was around, and no one else could have access to the room, he looked up quickly to see a man in period costume and a top hat, with a 'Freddy Kruger face' walk by.
Have you heard the expression, 'can't say boo to a ghost'? Well, the Beard apparently, has not, because that's just what he did. When it comes to fright or flight, he opts for fight. In response, the apparition walked by again.
I laughed at the Beard and told him the rule of thumb is that one should never challenge any being with potentially super natural powers. I had the heebie jeebies a little but I let it go because I was concentrating on what I was doing with full force--I take my temp job rather seriously.
Next thing I know, I heard a deep voice coming from behind the cabinets. I flapped my arms and hands several times, possibly levitated an inch off the ground in my attempt to take off and I bee lined it towards the Beard, where I shamelessly crouched and hid behind him with tears streaming down my eyes!
Meanwhile, he nearly passed out in hysterics because the voice belonged to the newest temp in our office. Of course, he wasn't amused that I hid behind him and kind of pushed him towards the voice, but that's another story. My response to fear is obviously flight--and offering a sacrificial lamb.
The Beard and the new temp thanked me for the best laugh they have had in awhile. It seems it was a classic moment. Considering I was holding my bladder until I finished my work, this story could have ended far more tragically for all concerned. If only they knew.To make things worse, when I did rush to the loo after that, the tap came on by itself! Talk about timing!
Speaking of holidays, weird segue, we went to Seattle for Christmas to visit the family. Chaos is not far behind when I spend time with my nutty sibling. We accompanied my father for a session of chemo and as usual, he decided to go forth without his hearing aid. At every stop, a nurse would ask for verification of his date of birth and he would happily respond with a lecture on the topography of his veins and where he would like to have various drugs injected into his person.
My father is just the right combination of harmless and clueless that makes women want to call him 'sweetie' and offer him a hearty soup and possibly a teddy bear. As such, when I explained that we were having two different conversations because he refused to wear his hearing aid, the nurses would smile and indulge him.
When my father was getting his blood tested, I volunteered my arm for squeezing. When I was little, he used to tell me to squeeze his hand really tightly because it would distract me from the pain in my arm whenever I got a vaccine. As touched as he was at the reversal in roles, he embarked on long conversation with the technician about how daughters are bossy. To my chagrin, the technician chimed in agreeing because he had three of his own!
We met my sister outside the room, where she was having fun with my father’s cane. Channeling Charlie Chaplin, she kept swinging it to and fro and pointing at random things, such as my nose and left eye.
In between all that, she dropped in on the hospital floor several times, much to my germ fearing mind’s horror. As reluctant as I was to hold anything that has been on the ground of a medical facility, I had to confiscate the cane in order to preserve various body parts and to avoid law suits.
In between all that, she dropped in on the hospital floor several times, much to my germ fearing mind’s horror. As reluctant as I was to hold anything that has been on the ground of a medical facility, I had to confiscate the cane in order to preserve various body parts and to avoid law suits.
We were soon sent off to the ward for chemo. I spied a bunch of gadgets near the head of the bed and I made a mad dash for the chair near the controls. The last thing we needed was my sister to grin and start getting trigger happy with the buttons, something she is absolutely notorious for.
The last time we were all in a hospital together, my father got jet propelled so high that he looked like an old Volkswagen that was about to get its undercarriage inspected. He was so shocked, he was at a loss for words and was making random hysterical noises.
The last time we were all in a hospital together, my father got jet propelled so high that he looked like an old Volkswagen that was about to get its undercarriage inspected. He was so shocked, he was at a loss for words and was making random hysterical noises.
Undaunted, my nutty sister found a lever at the end of the bed, and my father suddenly found himself, open port and all, slammed into an upright position. He squawked and said that the night before he had a nightmare that he was on a bed that snapped.
A nurse showed up and diffused the situation. I realized that there was a section in the ward that had lots of food for patients and their care givers. Always the first one in a buffet line, even at a time like this, I was dying to go check it out but I was scared to leave my father alone with my nutty sibling.
I was torn between my weird sense of obligation to be my father’s bodyguard and my constant craving for any kind of food at any time of the day. Eventually, greed got the better of me and after some grunting at my sister, I took off and came back with some mac and cheese, crackers, shortbread, coffee and a ginger ale. If not for recently losing my gall bladder, I would have tried the chocolate ice cream too.
I was torn between my weird sense of obligation to be my father’s bodyguard and my constant craving for any kind of food at any time of the day. Eventually, greed got the better of me and after some grunting at my sister, I took off and came back with some mac and cheese, crackers, shortbread, coffee and a ginger ale. If not for recently losing my gall bladder, I would have tried the chocolate ice cream too.
As my dad was finishing up his treatment, I stood up to use the facilities when my sister said ‘don’t flush today’. I was confused and wondered if it was the hospital’s effort to be green and save water, but it just didn’t seem sanitary in a place that one can’t even step into if they walked by someone with a cold.
Luckily for me, I stopped to follow their conversation because my sister kept going on about not flushing and then my father made me realize she was talking about something that had to do with his treatment. Imagine my horror if I went in and didn’t flush! With my luck, a nurse would probably have been waiting to go in the loo right after me. My reputation, and only that, would have been down the toilet!
After we were done, we followed my nutty sibling to the car park. I was monopolizing my father with one hand and clinging onto his medication, set in ice, with the other. My sister complimented me on my shirt, a gift from my meticulous spouse, P. It was rather loose fitting and big--I could have had an entire production of Cirque du Soleil under there.
My nutty sibling just lifted up the shirt, assuming I had a tank top underneath, and made me flash the entire parking lot. I couldn’t cover myself because I was safeguarding the drugs, and so I was left to squeal and be mortified and apologize to any cancer patients who had to bear witness to this horrifying sight.
My father, not observing the sisterly drama going on, got home and told my mother that he had a wonderful time with his two girls. I was worse for wear between the cane poking, bed shifting, and shirt flashing. I rotated around the house in various states of hysteria but for some reason everyone ignored me.
With that, I must sign off and take a mental health break. More musings from BC soon, do leave some comments...
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