Friday, February 25, 2011

Where the Crazies Live

This week my father had a follow-up appointment with the doctors that treated him in here locally when he had his fall just before Christmas. Once a week the neurology department holds a clinic. We were told to be there at 8:30 to check-in.  After re-reading the letter, my mom and I realized that this is a check-in time - not an appointment time.

We saw a long day in our future.

But we got there just before 8:30 - ready to be checked in.  As we were waiting in the waiting room for Dad to be called up to the registration window, we meet our first crazy of the day.

He was in a wheelchair, holding a cane, moving the wheelchair with his one good foot. Probably in his 30's. And he likes to talk to strangers.  A whole waiting room full of strangers. As he passed our section of waiting room, he started to talk about a wedding that was to be on Saturday.  At first I thought it was his wedding, but mom said no, it was his room-mate's wedding.  Our wheelchair-bound friend apparently did not want the wedding to happen.  As he started to tell us loudly. 

As we all put our faces in our books or eyes focused on the TV, he decided to share his unhappiness with another capture audience - the next part of the waiting room.  Yeah!

After Dad was called and completed his registration - complete with an arm band as if he would be staying over night- we went down to the end of the waiting room where the neurology's clinic was located.  On our way, we passed by another crazy.

This one concerned me. He didn't talk out-loud. He just sat there. With darting eyes.  You know the kind. The kind that spells our C-R-A-Z-Y.  There was something just not right about them.  And he was alone. Never a good sign.

Thankfully, he stayed in his part of the waiting room and we stayed in ours.

But don't worry. Our part of the waiting room provided up with lots of entertainment.  We had the guy in the white shirt next to be that must have thought the contestants on The Price is Right could actually hear him. (Which by the way, he apparently watches the show EVERY DAY!!! EVERY DAY!!) He also liked to make loud commentary about anyone else in the waiting room.  I'm thinking he was born without a filter between his brain and his mouth....

There was the lady in her robe.  Yes, it really was a robe - not a long dress. Nice dark green.  A robe. In public.  Can only imagine what Stacy and Clinton would say about that.

Then there was the boy and set of grandparents behind us.  The boy had to be about Ben's age - ten or so.  What stood out to be was his bright orange basketball jersey he was wearing. It matched the large cheese puff bag he was carring and then proceeded to consume. Not even nine in the morning and the cheese puffs are almost gone!

After he finished them, he proceeded to quiz his grandfather on where lunch would be held - MacDonald's or Burger King??  The grandfather's answer? "I think I can get you to school in time for lunch."

Really? Seriously?  That's the only reason to send your grandson to school is for the free lunch??   And why exactly is he here at the clinic instead of school when he's NOT the patient????

No matter what size, shape, or color this world is full of CRAZY people!!!

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