Friday, December 20, 2013

A Day to Remember - Dan, 92

By choice I went to a luncheon
with friends retired from E.T.,
And I had no idea what
was going to happen to me.

As I walked to my auto
with the bright sun in my eyes
I adjusted my shades without stopping,
And I tripped over something my hands did hide

I went a** over tin cups,
But did not hit the wall.
To the left side I did fall,
Arms, legs, and all,
What happened next
Could make an old man bawl.

I put my hand to the side of my face
To make sure everything was in place.

I laid on my back and looked to the sky
And thought, “Is this the end?
Am I goin’ to die?
Please, Lord, I am only 92.  If you would,
Maybe a decade or two?”

It seemed like a long time till two ladies did come,
One with her cell phone,
The other, I hoped, with some rum.

The lady called 911,
But I said, “No,”
Till I saw the bloody hand.
From the head did it flow.

The manager of Kings
Sat with me on the curb,
Asked me my name
And the date of my birth.
He took a picture of me, he did.
I guess I was going to be
Man of the month.

The paramedics came real fast, of course,
Like as though if they didn’t, they would find a corpse.

I walked into the ambulance
And laid down on the cot.
They strapped me down
Whether I liked it or not.
A blood pressure cuff they did apply
And the numbers on the machine went sky high.

The driver hit all the potholes he could.
The paramedic came at me with his IV.
I said, “You’re kidding.”  He said he would. 
And he did.

He called into the hospital
Said, “We have a 92-year young man for you.”
I said, “You need glasses.”

Into the hospital we did go
Down this hall and then another
I knew I was too old
But I wanted my mother.

Passing different stations,
I smiled and I grinned,
And to others, I
Tipped my hat to them.

A doctor told me
Some stitches I would git
Whether or not
I kept having that fit.

Everyone that saw me would ask for
My name, date of birth, and
Is my insurance the same.

Boy, with all them wanting my birthdate,
I thought sure it was some birthday cards I would get
Until another thought ended the thrill.
Maybe it’s the date they would send me the bill.

I was told I could leave
And that I was able to drive,
And my car was a mile away,
And I said, “Maybe five.”

I called my good friend,
Kathleen, by name,
She knew I was in trouble.
It is always the same.

She came to the hospital
And a ride did we take.
I told her to take Haymaker Road,
Not 48.

We arrived at Kings without any trouble.
I got to my car in relief.
I’ll always remember this day
Now that I’m over my grief.

Going back home was a glorious ride
Over 48 to Center.
At Uncle Buckle’s Kathleen went straight ahead.
I took a left to my home and bed.

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