https://www.angelfire.com/zine2/letters/index.html
melindaedison@hotmail.com
Dear Signman,
This morning my plump eight-year old neighbor rang my bell. He stood there, hands out, bleeding.
Mom’s out shopping and he is working on his model airplanes and he says the balsa wouldn’t cut with the Exacto so he thought he could try a carpet cutter. Yikes! He is pouring blood as I take a towel and try to apply pressure to stop the fountain coming out of a 3” gash across his palm.
“Hey, no biggie. I did stuff like that too when I was a kid.” I am totally lying. I am trying to keep him calm.
We can’t find mom. Her cell is off and not by her or something.
So we are off to Good Shepherd. The check-in is horrendous. I don’t know the answer to most of the questions they are asking. I want to tell them, “If this is about money just stitch the kid up and I’ll pay.” What the fuck? I can’t even get him to the nurses/doctors.
I need Doc. Help!
Finally they move him to the ER where it is a section of gurneys and those floaty white pull-around privacy curtains. The doctor knows my Doc. Yes! He cleans the boy’s palm and puts two butterfly bandages on to close up the gap. A nurse comes in and grabs him away.
Thank God that I saw Harry Potter. It gives me conversation. It takes his mind off his hand. He is worried that his dad will be pissed. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that.” I tell him. Actually I have no idea if his father is compassionate or not. Hopefully dad will remember his own boyhood.
Pop! A loud pingy sound comes from across the room. I pull back the curtains. It sounded like someone fell off the gurney onto the hard polished linoleum floor. I see the nurses rush over and over the curtains where the noise was. Oh my God! Another kid is on a gurney. He is looking down at his mom scrunched up on the floor. Mom fainted.
The doctor comes back to our spot. He says, “Sometimes this is harder on the mother’s than on the children.” He pulls out his stitch kit. Oh fuck. I am feeling dizzy myself. I slip out of the curtain and start walking. I am no good at playing doctor/nurse. Well, maybe, but NOT the real kind.
The boy’s mother walks in the lobby. I take her to her son and make up a story about the necessity of my leaving immediately.
Well, that whole event only took 4 hours. I am exhausted. The boy is fine. He will probably show off his scar to his pals and they will think it is sublime. I think hospitals keep you for hours and hours so when you get the $600 bill it will make sense. 15 minutes for $600, “That’s outrageous!” 4 hours for $600, “That seems about right for professional work.”
Funny thing is this: a real nurse lives two doors down from me. She is home with her baby. So why does everyone come to me?
Signman I need you! Can you make two signs for me? I want them to be in the shape of a cross, about 2’ x 3’, painted bright red. Use white lettering; a bold sans serif font would be good. The first one should say: “NO NURSING SKILLS! Real Nurse (arrow) That Way”, and the second should say: “Cranky Writer Lives Here/Disturb At Your Own Risk.”
Please email quote. Hell, just make them FAST and bill me.
Sincerely,
Melinda A. Edison, retired rescuer
