The archaic beast
It’s happened more than once and I’m positive I’m not the only doctor’s wife out there whose evening plans have been abruptly thwarted by the archaic, high pitched beep of a hospital pager.
We’re out to dinner... a semi-date night. These types of dinners are not a ‘real’ date night, because we know that we may have to flag down the poor wait staff and ask for our dinner to go. A movie is COMPLETELY out of the question no matter how quiet the hospital seems. We tried a movie. Just once. We didn’t even have time to ask for a refund. We just ran straight through the lobby, across the parking lot and straight for the car.
Sometimes, the beep can be satisfied with a phone call - some lengthy in duration, some short and sweet. Other times, we’re allowed to finish our main course, but don’t think of ordering another glass of wine (that’s me, not Doc H) or a dessert, ‘cause HE’S GOT TO GO!
Our night can quickly go from this...
Early last year, we considered a move. We finally felt we could afford to move to a larger home in a better neighborhood. We combed through active real estate listings every day. Every weekend, we toured homes and....nothing. We couldn’t find a house that suited our needs and desires (for a price we were willing to pay) enough to pry us away from our current home. Our current home is small for a family of our size, but it has been good to us. We have re-modeled it to our liking. I have personally planted over 300 bulbs I had imported from Holland in the garden. Our kids have grown up in this house. What have we put down in this house? Oh, yes.. ROOTS. And this house has one other aspect to it which is incredibly valuable in these types of scenarios...It is within walking distance to the hospital (in comfortable shoes).
Normally, when the beep brings our life to a screeching halt, it is an irritation which brings a bout of tolerable frustration which is usually quelched with a very active and cogniscent round of ‘let’s focus on the postives’ as our car comes to only a rolling stop at our drive way and I jump out.
However, it is when ANOTHER hospital (where Doc H has privileges) beeps for back-up that really chaps my hide and leaves me unguarded and ill-prepared. So much so, that one dark night, I found myself sitting outside the main entrance of a hospital as Doc H was inside one of the ORs working on a poor chap. I had already been there over an hour and it was going to be a long wait.
... to this.
I know. I KNOW!! I should’ve known! The second I took the curing iron to my hair on a night my husband could possibly be called in, the night was DOOMED!
I took to people watching for awhile. I saw green scrubs, white coats, blue scrubs, sweats, jeans, hospital gowns, and pj’s even! Doctors, nurses, patients. hospital visitors, volunteers, vendors, and even a very late and weary looking UPS man walked by. I looked at them and they looked at me. Dressed up in my best date night clothes (you know, the ones that make you look skinnier than you really are, the bra that hoists the girls up and around your neck like a choker, and the shoes that make you look as tall as you possibly can look without falling over), I must have looked like a pitiful case, cause I began to feel uncomfortable and desperate for a way home. OH, why didn't we drive two cars?! My wallet didn’t hold enough cash for a cab ride and I wouldn’t dream of paying that much in fare anyway. I grabbed my phone and updated my status.
God bless Facebook!
“Anyone in the __________ Hospital area and headed North? I could use a ride...now.”
I didn’t expect anything. I threw my phone back in my purse. In less time than it takes to say ‘ruptured abdominal aeortic anuerysm’ my phone rang and I HAD A RIDE ON IT’S WAY!
Thank you, Mr. Zuckerberg! I treasure you and your little website! You saved my *BEEP*!