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November 1, 2006
Clark Candy Bar
This jingle came to me as the boys and I drove home tonight. It's old and I'm not certain all the words are right.
I hope this weak blog entry doesn't disappoint. Not everything can be Jell-O baths and dream interpretations.
In other news, I went in for my pre-surgery physical. I told the nurse looking me over that I didn't want any super-human effort made to save me if I died on the table -- if I see a white light I'm going to be running for it. I also told her that I didn't want a big fuss made over me after I die and that rolling me out next to the dumpster would suit me fine.
(Wouldn't it be sweet if they could deposit me in a big pile of yesterday's thrown-out hospital cafeteria Jell-O? Maybe it would have fruit in it. What if Lisa, from Miami, was the doctor cutting into me that accidentally killed me?)
The nurse gave me some Living Will paperwork to fill out. I haven't read it all yet, but I have the feeling that I can set some pretty specific if-I-die parameters in there.
With that in mind I asked my sister, an RN, how long I should be dead before I suggest people give up on me. I figured that if one or two good thumps to the chest could bring me back, well, I don't think that would be too much of a bother for the staff. My sister asked how long I could hold my breath, which led to some other questions, and in the end we decided that I could probably be dead for five minutes, brought back to life, and not suffer any serious long-term damage.
She assured me that the staff would probably be more than happy to provide five, or even six, minutes of chest thumping and that doctors and nurses get a big kick out using the paddles (and not just on each other late at night when they're all alone).
Still, keeping track of five minutes may be easier than keeping track of six minutes. Especially if I code, which is what I think they call it, at, you know, five, ten, fifteen etc. past the hour.
Of course, maybe when someone codes they have someone in the room whose job it is to simply count one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, etc., all the way up to 300-Mississippis (360 for the really hopeful).
I can hear it now, "One Mississippi, Two Mississippis, CLEAR," zap, "Four Mississippis, Five Mississipis," you know, because the "Clear" could count as a Mississippi.
This job probably goes to someone with a really cool head.
Posted by delmer at November 1, 2006 9:01 PM
Comments
I think in view of the fact that you have loyal readers they should make an allowance and give you...oooooh.....7 or 8 minutes of thumping.....9 if they really feel generous! I am sure your readers would appreciate that extra effort!
Posted by: Pen at November 2, 2006 4:06 AM
OK. But nine tops. I'll put that in the living will.
Posted by: delmer at November 2, 2006 8:45 PM
very good, I liked it :)
- Kevin
Posted by: kevin at November 14, 2006 4:34 PM



