Update on Bayou Renaissance Man

KatyBeth and I saw Peter this afternoon, and he’s looking good. He’s short one greater saphenous vein and sporting four new coronary arteries and a row of shiny new staples, but still… looking good.

After surviving war, Apartheid, and tribal conflicts in South Africa, not to mention the Louisiana prison system, I should have known he’d make Mr. Myocardial Infarction his bitch.

The nurses have him up and walking around, and last I saw of him he was strolling gingerly through the telemetry ward, with his Foley catheter bag hanging from one arm like a purse. I’d like to report that he was proudly strutting around with his ass hanging out of his gown, but the nurses did insist that he put on another johnny to cover his backside.

This is a cardiac ward, after all, and the female patients cannot be expected to handle the palpitations induced by such a sight.

Idle observations from the afternoon:

1. Salisbury steak from the hospital cafeteria and Betadine scrub pads look remarkably similar. And probably taste similar, too.

2. Apparently my fellow Borg drones from Central Hive did a good job of recognizing his impending infarction, intervening quickly, and getting him to the cath lab in short order.

3. Telemetry nurses will give you dirty looks if you remove a patient’s oxygen cannula, even if they had a good oxygen saturation and you assure them you’ll put it back after you finish shaving him.

4. Those funny facial contortions men make when they’re shaving their faces? Apparently they’re hardwired behavior, because I make them even when it’s not my face I’m shaving.

5. Seeing a guy make such facial contortions threatens to make the cardiac patient laugh hard enough to pop a staple, thus negating the simple pleasure of a fresh shave. I’ll have to make a note of that.

While I was there, his landlord dropped off his laptop, so hopefully we’ll see a resumption of blogging from The Man himself in short order.