In Which I Divulge the Source of My Sense of Humor

My dad, and my mom and I, spent the day in the ER yesterday.  He is doing pretty well, all things considered, but it was a typically grueling day for all of us.  

ERs just suck, no matter what the circumstances.  My dad was poked and prodded all day long—a catheter here, an IV line there, a rectal thermometer, a chest X-ray for good measure, a bunch of overdue suctioning for his ventilator tube, and who knows what else when we weren't there to see it.

My mom and I stood, sat, stood, ate unhealthy food, watched inane television (Wife Swap!!!) in the waiting room, and stood some more.  At one point, the ER was so overwhelmed that they diverted all incoming ambulances and kicked all visitors out.  We had spent the night in that particular ER before, so we half expected to do it again.

I recognized one nurse and a physician's assistant from one of our other visits, and another nurse recognized me from the ER at a completely different hospital where she used to work.  It's no wonder everything has started to blur together.

In any event, my dad finally got up to a regular room sometime after 9PM.  His very personable nurse came in to get him settled, then returned a few minutes later.

"I'm gonna take your temperature and blood pressure," she said sunnily.

"Why don't you give me an enema while you're at it?" my dad chirped.  (Well, more "mouthed" than "chirped," but she understood him right away.)

At first she thought he was actually submitting a request but then realized he was being wry.  She laughed and tried a comeback of her own, but my dad stopped her cold:

"I do the comedy around here," he shot back.

His eyes may have been narrowed for effect, but they were twinkling just the same.