A rare medical condition exists where hospital patients become delirious and mistake the hospital for a five star resort. Good candidates for this condition are fat, middle-aged men, reminiscent of King Henry VIII. There is nothing harmful in it; in fact, it is admirable they can appreciate three pillows and a few cups of ice in the midst of emergency.
One Henry stood out--a stubby man who wore sunglasses in his darkened hospital room. The first time he called, he asked for his nurse, John. John, as always, was having a bad day.
“Bed 12 wants something.” I said.
“I’ll bet he does.”
Ten minutes later, Henry called again.
“Can I help you?”
“Could I get ice cream? Two scoops, vanilla and chocolate?”
“Sure.” I doubted we had any ice cream, but I put the order in. I could tell by the way John slammed the keys into the keyboard that he was thrilled to be of service. His nose twitched beneath his glasses.
Henry was not done. The next time I came around he wanted two Sierra Mists--regular, whatever that meant. By the time these regular sodas came, the king wanted more ice cream.
I avoided Henry’s room. It wasn’t a matter of laziness, more not wanting John to have a seizure or the hospital to go bankrupt. Besides, it was dinnertime, and I figured that would satisfy him. When I next passed by, he looked asleep, and there was evidence of a finished hospital meal as well as empty bags from Jack-in-the-Box, which some family member brought. He jerked awake before my escape.
“Can you put in an order for a second tray?”
“Uh, sure.”
“BBQ Beef sandwich, mashed potatoes, and a regular Sierra Mist.”
“Okay. BBQ chicken--”
“Beef”
“RIght, sorry." I had not been trained for this. "BBQ beef sandwich mashed potatoes, and a Sierra Mist.”
“Yes, regular.” His chins expanded and collapsed like an accordion as he nodded.
“Okay.” I went to find John. When I appeared, he glared as if I was the one eating half the hospital. Once more, he hammered at the keyboard with the passion of a concert pianist, then scurried out the door--the nurses’ shifts were changing. I had half an hour. I returned to the Henry-corner.
“Can I have some ice? These drugs make me so hungry.” Henry closed his eyes.
“Yeah, they have some pretty strong stuff.”
“Very strong.” Looking at the mess of dishes, I had to agree. “Do you think I could have some more ice cream? Chocolate and vanilla?”
“Sure. I’ll go order it.”
“Thanks.” He curled up in a ball.
The night nurse smiled as I approached.
“Yes?”
“Bed 12 wants to order ice cream.”
“Ice cream? Uh...okay. I don’t know if we have any but I’ll put the order in.” I waited as the nurse’s eyes bulged and mouth gaped.
“How much has this guy been eating?” I shrugged. It was 8:00--time for me to make my getaway.
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