My 86-year-old father has been in the hospital for the last week. He’s stable and comfortable, but will likely be there for a while.
Spirits are relatively high, though. When I went in on Saturday, two nurses were changing his linens, meaning his legs were left bare for a bit. “We’ll cover you back up,” one said. My dad’s reply was, “Just be sure to cover me with a blanket, not dirt.”
Ladies and gentlemen: my dad.
When I dropped in after work yesterday, he was asleep, so I left a note: I took a bit of toilet paper and the marker from the nurse’s whiteboard in the room, and wrote: “This man needs 50 cc’s of BEER…stat!” I scribbled on the bottom (because doctors have bad handwriting! Ha ha!) and left it on the whiteboard for him to get a chuckle out of.
A nurse saw it first and took it seriously. She asked the doctor about it (and here I learned that the random number I’d picked–50 cc’s–is only about two ounces), and the doctor said, “I didn’t write it, but go ahead and let him have some; it won’t hurt.”
But alas, the old guy still hasn’t gotten any. Sorry, Dad. I tried.
On a more curious note, is it common for doctors to write emergency prescriptions for beer in blue marker on toilet paper and leave them hanging in patients’ rooms? I had no idea I was perpetrating such a credible hoax.