Die With Your Boots On

A couple of months ago we had to take Sylvie to our local ER. It turned out that she had nothing more worrisome than an ear infection but we spent a few hours there waiting for test results. We shared a room with an elderly man and his wife. They were around 70 or 80 years old and the kind of admirably hardy old people you find around here, people who still manage to live mostly off their land, maintaining extensive vegetable gardens and a few animals in the summer, logging their woods in the winter. While Sylvie slept fitfully in my arms, I couldn't help overhearing the following conversation between them.

Elderly man (in a deep James Earl Jones voice): So can we go home now?

Elderly woman: Go home!?

Elderly man: Yes. We  should go home now.

Elderly woman: You had a heart attack! You're not going home.

Elderly man: I feel all right.

A doctor bustles into the room. He has a sheaf of test results in his hand.

Doctor: Yes, so you definitely had a heart attack. We're waiting for the specialist right now. Hmmm, so from your X-ray it appears  you once broke your collar bone.

Elderly man: Broke my collar bone? No, I never broke my collar bone!

Doctor: How are you feeling now? Any more chest pain?

Elderly man: No, absolutely not. There's no pain.

Doctor: Okay, good. I'll be back as soon as the specialist gets here. And we'll find you a room as soon as we can. (He leaves.)

The elderly man moans a little, in a frighteningly deep voice.

Elderly woman: I hope you were telling him the truth about the pain!

Elderly man: I'm fine. I'm ready to go home now.

Elderly woman: You're NOT GOING HOME! YOU HAD A HEART ATTACK!

Elderly man: I'm sure I'll be fine.

Elderly woman: You don't listen! If you'd only listen, you'd be fine! You should have come in last night when I told you to!

Elderly man moans a little.

Elderly woman: Let me take your boots off.

Elderly man: No! I'm not taking my boots off!

Elderly woman: You might as well get comfortable. You're not going home.

Elderly man: I need my boots.

Elderly woman: YOU'RE NOT GOING HOME!

Elderly man: Don't touch my boots!

Elderly woman: You don't listen. You really should take your boots off.

Elderly man: I need my boots on.

The elderly woman sighs with exasperation. A young nurse bustles into the room. She has overheard none of this conversation.

Nurse (to the elderly woman in a sympathetic tone): You look exhausted! Why don't you go get a cup of tea while I give your husband some medication?

Elderly woman: I'm afraid to leave in case the specialist comes in. My husband doesn't always get things right...

Elderly man groans.

Nurse: It's okay, I'll come and get you as soon as the specialist gets here.

Elderly woman: Well, I am feeling a little faint.  I didn't get much sleep last night. Harold didn't want to come to the hospital. He should have come in when I told him to! He never listens!

The elderly woman leaves. The nurse gives the elderly man a shot and some medication.

Nurse: Now, why don't we make you more comfortable? Let's take off your boots.

Elderly man (in a voice like a lamb's if a lamb could speak): Okay.

I had Maxx Klaxon's version of Die With Your Boots On (that's Maud singing, too) in my head for the rest of the day.

Comments

[Maximus]

Great story!

I wonder, had the nurse _really_ heard none of the conversation? Or was she being very crafty?

[Steph]

Hey Max! I really don't think she overheard. They were busy that day and she came bustling in from way down the hall where she'd been with another patient. I could see her coming.

[Catherine]

Great story!!!

[Carrie]

You know, this is off subject, but if you shared a room with him while they were giving him diagnoses and medical advice, isn't that a violation of medical privacy?

[Steph]

There was a curtain (sort of) between us, Carrie. I'm sure I'm just supposed to pretend not to have seen/heard. Doesn't that happen there? Here it could have easily happened in the hall, where several people were being treated and diagnosed that day because there weren't any rooms left.