Putting Crisis Back Into Christmas

…

It was not all that bad. It is just that I awoke on Christmas Eve morning with a fever. Always considerate and cautious in such matters, I soon found myself in the local urgent care facility. They weighed, poked, choked and listened to my various internal noises. I even got X-rayed!

“Pneumonia,” said the slip of a girl who was my doctor.

I admit, it sounded glum for Christmas morning with the grandchildren. I asked, “Am I contagious?”

“Oh Herr yes.” The doctor was oriental, too.

“B-but Christmas…” I pleaded.

“You can stir have Christmas, but do not hug any grandchirdren or share food or drink with anyone.”

With that, a sweet, innocent looking nurse with a bundle of syringes under her arm replaced the doctor.

“Unzip your pants, loosen them and lie down on your stomach.”

I complied, but I was uncomfortable. I hardly knew her.

What happened next was awful. That sweet little nurse stabbed a needle into my backside and turned on the pump. “Ding, ding, ding went the pump indicating gallons of anti biotic delivered. In a few minutes, she unstabbed me.

“Boy, I glad that’s over,” I exclaimed.

Stab! “Ding, ding, ding” replied the other pump.

By this time, I thought my legs at least doubled in size. The discomfort was, well, eye watering.

I got a sheaf of prescriptions and managed to walk out of the place feeling pneumonia was a trifle compared to my backside and legs.

“Owww!” I said with each step.

Christmas morning arrived on time and the children and grandchildren showed up bright and early. Everyone waded into the pile of gifts. Grandfather sat quietly in his chair, hoping not to attract undue notice. I felt much better, except for that bottom stabbing business, but remained weak – probably due to the aforementioned stab wounds. I still felt some bloat in the antibiotic department.

Soon all the gifts were opened. Children’s toys covered the floor and filled the air.

The ‘girls’ set two tables; one for those over age six and one for those under age 6. I sat at the old table and enjoyed baked ham and all the trimmings. The mashed potatoes and deviled eggs were among my favorites – at least they were until I met the pecan pie. It was wonderful.

Eventually everyone went to his or her own home and I stretched out on the sofa – tummy side down – to doze through “A Christmas Story” for the ninety-third time.

Today, I am a picture of health.

Overall, it was a wonderful Christmas.  I sincerely hope yours was as good.