Once more into the breach--

Well, in a little while I'll be off down the yellow brick road again, this time to see the flying monkeys at the ER. Because I've got a crick in my neck, Dr. G. said go get blood work done. So, lemme get in the shower and get ready for take-off. Sister Ramey's going to drive me down there.

***

Weds., June 1 - There's no defense against the Medical Monster. We got home last night at 11:00, after I spent 8 hours in the emergency room, mostly waiting. I feel worse for Ramey than for myself, because she likes to sleep.

Okay, it was a harrowing experience for a 162-year-old crone like me. But what about the young girl with her obviously sick husband asleep on her shoulder, her infant in a carrier, and her toddler making the only sweet light in the place?

What about the old gentleman who could walk although he couldn't stand up straight? No one was waiting with him.

The emaciated young woman who had some kind of a seizure, rolled around screaming on the floor until a big guy came in and picked her up and left?

Crowds of them waiting there all day and into the night, obviously because of the signs on the walls saying it's illegal to deny medical treatment to anyone just because they can't pay for it.

Not to mention the medical staff, not one of whom ever let a harsh or ill-natured word out of his or her mouth.

Maybe it was cruel of Dr. G. to send a weak old woman to the ER, when he could have let me go to this little secluded clinic in Leeds for "some blood work." We, who are strong enough to stand it, should all be subjected to such cruelty, to be shown how the other half tries to stay alive.