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Rebuttal of Nurse Ratchitt Returns
By luck, divine
intervention and powerful antibiotics, I have survived Nurse Ratchitt's care.
Her intentions were good, but there were a few moments of crisis.
First, I had tucked away money every month for the last year for the operation
in an envelope marked "Lift". This procedure was supposed to be a 2-fer: a fix
of my left eardrum and a full facelift so I could have matching zippers behind
both ears. Unfortunately and unknown to me, Ratchitt found the envelope recently
and assumed the money was her new high heel shoe fund. She took the cash and
bought fifteen to twenty pairs of new shoes. On the day of the operation, I
presented the envelope to the admissions nurse only to discover the missing
cash. There was only enough money for my left eardrum procedure so I did the
best with what I had. The eardrum repair was perfect, but I look a little off
with half of a facelift on the left side.
Ratchitt continued to demonstrate her compulsive shopping tendencies when I
learned she had picked up a few things at the Swedish Hospital Gift Shop while
waiting for me. I found the lame get well card with never heard before bedpan
jokes and the yellow happy face helium balloon, but it didn't explain the triple
digit Visa charge. Evidently she found some fetching Easter decorations to buy.
The ten boxes of Easter junk in the basement of our home are apparently
inadequate for the celebration this year. I was so delighted to find the new
decorations were dozens of Easter candles in the classic religious theme: baby
chicks. The final affront was delivered by Ratchitt when she made it known I was
not allowed to light the chick candles. If you happen to go out shopping with
Ratchitt soon to one of her well- known haunts, Bellevue Square or University
Village, be forewarned she may try to swing by the hospital gift shop on the way
home.
The final episode of concern occurred Sunday morning, when I awoke to the
nurse's fingers prying my mouth open. She said in a stern voice, "Let me have a
look at that tooth." Without scorn or derision, I reminded her that it was her
sister that had the bad tooth and that I had a bum ear and a discount facelift.
My best advise, based on first hand knowledge is, if Ratchitt offers to "nurse"
you back to health, put off your surgery or sickness until she is out of town.
In the meantime, I'll try and get her re-tested for career choices.
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