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There is only one thing worse than the man flu – the man flu in summer.

So, it comes to pass that June rolls around and I somehow manage to catch pneumonia.

In the summer.

I love what they call it now, “Upper Respiratory Infection” or as my doctor liked to call it, “a touch of pneumonia.”

I am glad it was a touch, it knocked my flat on my backside.

I shudder at what a full-fledged case would do.

So, there I was sitting in my hospital room, doing breathing treatments.

I felt like the caterpillar from Alice and Wonderland.

And it worked too, until a nurse came in and I stared at her and said.., ‘Who are you?’

I spent the next few hours under observation since they were afraid I had a stroke or something.

Jokes can be wasted on the wrong crowds.

And, they hook you up to what they call heart telemetry. They say it’s to make sure your heart is doing okay and you are not in any distress.

I say it is to monitor when you are falling asleep.

Day or night, it seemed like the second I started to get into that sweet sleep spot, someone came in.

Time to draw blood.

Time for a breathing treatment.

Time to check your blood sugars.

Time to make the donuts.

And always, as the person left, “Try and get some rest.”

Yeah, right.

But, I had fun. The nurses or other staff when they came in, always wanted to ask the same question.

Name, Date of Birth.

I figured there were some Geneva Convention rules on how to treat prisoners, I mean patients, making them legally bound to ask.

I always added a date.

Michael Cole, January 12, 1876

Michael Cole, January 12, 1776

Michael Cole, January 12, 1076

Most times they never noticed, but it was worth the few seconds of confusion about five minutes later when they processed it.

I always just said, I age well.

And then my favorite is discharge.

For me, they took an extra day on the paperwork. Not anything that the nurses did, they were great. It was the handwriting from one of the doctors.

No one could find an Eqyptologist to decipher his hieroglyphics that said I could go home.

All joking aside, we do not give our nurses the credit for all they do. Especially the extraordinary job they did this last year.

Thank you!

 

Michael Cole is a syndicated columnist that when he is not writing, he is plotting global domination. You can follow him at www.storyoveracup.com