Friday, May 25, 2007

Mr. A.

Just came back from the wards. My attention was called when one of the folks of the patient i just pronounced dead was creating a commotion at the wards. Let me call him Mr. A...A for A**hole. He was having an altercation with the nurse on duty. Aside from that, he was sort of insinuating the other folks in the ward just so to gain support from them. I really dont know what he was really up to or what his point was. Point-blank, he was just being an toooot-hole! I hated his guts. I hated how he challenged and threatened the nurse. I hated how he acted as if he was in a stage play. Walking to and fro delivering his piece equipped with removing and folding of eyeglasses. Duh!?! He was a frustrated stage actor if i were to judge.

I didnt even say a word. I was just looking at him amazed why in the world was he given a chance to live. I was examining his every word. Studying his every move. I allowed him to say his piece. He wanted attention and i gave him his due. I first asked him to come inside the station for us to talk. But no. He wanted a limelight for himself. I just imagined how lacking in attention he was maybe when he was a kid.

I was concerned of our patients. He was delivering his speech in our critical care ward. He was asking for sympathy from the patients or from their folks in that area! He was talking like a politician. He acted as if he was a lawyer defending a client! I remained silent for about 3 more minutes until i realized that he had gathered enough audience for himself. More people from the other wards came to hear his piece. Where did our guards go? I saw one in uniform behind him. Also stunned, doing nothing. This time, keeping silent is no longer an excuse for me.

I hated the guard for giving us no protection. For being chickens by not being able to control Mr. A and the crowd. It took a word from me before they gathered their senses to realize that hey! We're the security guards here! The other word that Mr. A mentioned that really took my guts was media. Yep! He was threatening us that he'll be calling the media. The what? The media? And what will the media do? Sensationalize the commotion that he has created? This poor creature needs my product im telling you. I didnt fight him back. He was a potential customer.

In my most polite voice, hiding those horns and keeping my tails folded, i answered back. I'll face whoever he will bring and ill face him even up to the highest court if he likes. He was afraid of the court. He realized maybe he was never in the position to act such. He shifted topic. From the problem with the services of the nurses to how insensitive we are to our patients' death.

Eeeeengk! Eeeeeengk! Eeeeengk! Can you hear the alarms going off! This is it! I couldnt stand this statement! We? Insensitive? You bull$#*&, sonof@#$%*, a^&*hole. Do you know what you're talking about? Dimmit! Dimmit!

I answered back! Told him that he just dont know what we feel. In my most polite tone again. He answered back with another piece. He asked his "audience" if we really are feeling something! This quarrel is going to the dogs. Should i continue to tolerate him, ill never win. Should i talk back and answer his pointless ideas, i still am in the losing end. Call the police! Those chickened guards are nothing but displays. I dont wanna waste my energy on those craps. I still have a 24-hour duty to cover. I still have sick and dying patients. This guy only needs ATTENTION. PERIOD!

Hearing that we are calling the police, Mr. A suddenly got lost. I hope hell swallowed him whole. The chickened guards didnt even thought of keeping him until the police came. Sheesh speaking of another potential customers of my second product...Common sense.

I love this crap hospital! If you really want life's adventure, witness all sorts of dramas of life, we are a WOW Philippines site. Pasyal na!


Postscript:
Heard from a colleague that Mr. A came back the next day. Now a bit calm and sober. He now have a name that's not even worth posting in this blog. All i knew was that he was a keeper of the guns of someone with a big name. Heck! So what? A fly on top of a carabao? Care to lend a flyswatter, anyone?

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