Striving For Normal

Working in a hospital is like traipsing through a Salvador Dali painting.

Everyone there knows something is wrong but they can't quite put their finger on it. They walk through the halls convincing themselves that what they see at every turn is normal. It is most certainly not normal. When I first started working I thought I was going to need to prepare myself ala Dave Chapelle when he describes preparing himself for going to the ghetto: "I'm gonna see some loud shit, I need to prepare myself. I'm gonna see something crazy". And crazy is there, don't get me wrong. But by the time the crazy comes you've already been lulled into a stupor by the constant state of sickness, of the unknown, anxiousness, shattered hopes, the 5th last straw. The way it sneaks up on you is sinister. Soon all of that becomes what we call "normal". If you aren't tracking with me, let me describe a recent situation.

A person codes, which is hospital talk for drops dead, in the middle of a hall surrounded by children and myself. During all this a fellow chaplain who was there asked me if I wouldn't mind terribly grabbing his lunch that was left in the cafeteria when he came up. I happily obliged him. It was around that time, when shouts of: "Eppy now!" rang through the unit, life hung in the balance, and with children screaming that the San Diego Chargers cheerleaders came prancing into the unit heading directly into this divine comedy. They waved their pom poms as if cheering death toward the goal line. He must have been inspired that day, it was 1st and inches. Sadly, I had to leave the game, I had plans of my own. I was late to play video games with a patient before he went to surgery. I won, 4-0. Not sure how well Death rounded out the day but I know of 1 victory for sure. You keep telling yourself this can't possibly be real, can it?

I now see part of my job is to be a remembrance to the patients and families of what normal actually is, standing as an effigy of what life is for most and ought to be for them as well. The only problem is that effigies have a tendency of getting burned.

A song always comes to mind when I'm trying to describe this feeling: Pearl Jam - Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town << right click and listen in a new tab

I seem to recognize your face.
Haunting familiar, yet I can't seem to place it.
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name.
Lifetimes are catching up with me.
All these changes taking place.
I wish I'd seen the place but no one's ever taken me.

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.

I swear I recognize your breath.
Memories, like fingerprints, are slowly raising.
Me you wouldn't recall for I'm not my former.
It's hard when your stuck upon the shelf.
I changed by not changing at all.
Small town predicts my fate.
Perhaps that's what no one wants to see.
I just want to scream, "Hello."
My god its been so long.
Never dreamed you'd return.
But now here you are and here I am.
Hearts and thoughts they fade away.

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.
Hearts and thoughts they fade away. Yeah.
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.
Hearts and thoughts they fade...

Conversations In A Hospital

"I like to listen to metal. I have a bunch of Ozzy Osbourne records."
"So you like Black Sabbath? Are you into Led Zeppelin at all."

"I've been playing some video games, but they aren't very good."
"What do they have?"
"Thrillville."
"Isn't that the game where you make roller coasters?"
"Yea."
"Yea, that's no good."

"Hello, I'm a chaplain."
"It's alright, no thanks."

"I was walking down the street in broad day light and two men grabbed me and tried to kidnap me. One of them had a knife and he stabbed me here in the shoulder. Ever since then I pray a lot."
"I bet."

"I want to have 3 inch spikes drilled into my spine. It's gonna be cool."
"How are you going to sit in a chair?"

"Did Jesus have a last name? Was it Christ?"
"No, I think he was like Prince and Madonna."
"Jesus H Christ. And what does the H stand for?"
"Hoobastank."

"I'm looking forward to Friday night karaoke at the Convalescent Hospital."
"I'm bringing a video camera."

"How was the luau at lunch?"
"Good. Smoke from the BBQ was getting sucked into the Operating Rooms though. The surgeons are pissed."
"Did they stop the BBQ?"
"Nope."

"How did you get hurt?"
"Playing football."
"What position do you play?"
"Defensive Tackle."
"Hmmm... I guess I better pray that you get bigger too."

"Have any of your friends come to visit you?"
"No. I haven't told them that I'm in the hospital."
"Why not?"
"It's embarrassing."
"Being in the hospital doesn't mean you're weak, it just means you're human."

*Finish praying*
"I'm sorry I'm crying."
"You don't need to apologize."

More to come...

Red Ring Of Death

We all live with fear to some extent.

For example, I have always been afraid of heights, they just make me very uncomfortable. I don't how I worked as a High Adventure Guide when I worked at Hume Lake. Even watching something on TV where guys are on top of high high rise buildings or something will cause me to sweat a little. Granted my TV with HD is more clear then when I look out a window, but still.

Another great fear that I have, a great fear that all Xbox 360 owners have, is the Red Ring Of Death. It means that your console has had a major hardware failure, usually because the console has overheated. Then it magically becomes a $400 paper weight.That right there is the Red Ring Of Death. Not any old generic picture of the Red Ring Of Death. That is my Red Ring Of Death. Yea. Luckily, Microsoft knows that they really screwed up in making their GPU from thier own specs and sending it to Taiwan for 10 year olds in sweat shops to make rather than sending it to a reputable producer. So a RROD means you can get a free fix no matter when your warranty expired; mine expired in May.

All I wanted to do was have a nice quiet Sunday at home killing zombies. Nope. Hopefully in a few weeks I can get back on the horse.