Nobody in Hospital Tells Me Anything
Anyone who has ever had a loved one in the hospital will enjoy this:
A woman called a local hospital . . . .
“Hello. Could you connect me to the person who gives information about patients? I’d like to find out if a patient is getting better, doing as expected or getting worse.”
The voice on the other end said, “What is the patient’s name and room number?”
“Sarah Finkel, room 302.”
“I’ll connect you with the nursing station . . . .”
“3-A Nursing Station. How can I help you?”
“I’d like to know the condition of Sarah Finkel in room 302.”
“Just a moment. Let me look at her records. Mrs. Finkel is doing very well. In fact, she’s had two full meals, her blood pressure is fine, she is to be taken off the heart monitor in a couple of hours and, if she continues this improvement, Dr. Cohen is going to send her home Tuesday at noon.”
The woman said, “What a relief! Oh, that’s fantastic . . . that’s wonderful news!”
The nurse said, “From your enthusiasm, I take it you are a close family member or a very close friend!”
“Neither! I AM Sarah Finkel in 302! Nobody here tells me shit!
