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Show 142 I am imagining that this wealthy person was hoping for good care in a nice setting when it was « needed. It is nice that someone as impoverished as we can also enjoy a nice setting, even if only temporarily, I am thinking. I lay back into the pillows and determine that I will enjoy the experience. Lisa is holding something up for me to see, two tiny white strings, one in each hand, pinched between her thumbs and index fingers. It is taking a moment for my eyes to clear enough of the anesthesia and pain medication to realize it is the catheter. In two separate pieces. She then puts both strings into one hand and from off my bedside table produces a small Dixie cup, tilting it forward for me to see that within it are bits and pieces of the same thread. Not only was the catheter in two pieces, it was also shredded. "I'd say you were right about the catheter," she is saying, placing both of the separated pieces into the cup, handing it all to me. I have never been wrong yet. "How did you get this?" I am asking. I have never seen the catheter before, not even after all the many surgeries I have had to replace it. |
