Manners mister MANNERS!!!
Recently I had a Julia Sugarbaker moment. About foul language in our everyday conversation. Well . . . here I go again!
Wednesday of last week I had to spend a night in the Emergency Department of our local hospital. (Great people by the way!) A few hours after I arrived a young man also arrived. In the room next to him I heard his screams. He was so loud he woke up the Julia Sugarbaker in me.
The man appeared to be very inured. His arm and his shoulder were broken. I understand the pain he had. My own pain was breaking through my third shot of dalaudid that night. I was not in the best mood myself.
However the vileness that came out of this mans mouth, at the top of his lungs, ought to be punishable by law. Actually, they had to call the police. Not the security, the POLICE.
Not just the standard MF and G-D we have become used to in everyday life. But the heroes that brought him in, turning the air blue the whole way, and all the nurses and doctors who were trying patiently and kindly to treat him in no way deserved the c-word he flung at them during the process. Men and women alike were both painted with the c-word brush.
How a person can treat the people trying to help alleviate your pain like that I will never know. How can you expect someone to give you their all while being abused.
Then I think. . . I don't know what it's like to live in his life. What daemons are running around in his head? Is there is an illness that makes this behavior beyond his control?
I can't make that call. I do know that I may not have been able to be as gracious and caring as the men and women who treated this sad man.
Wednesday of last week I had to spend a night in the Emergency Department of our local hospital. (Great people by the way!) A few hours after I arrived a young man also arrived. In the room next to him I heard his screams. He was so loud he woke up the Julia Sugarbaker in me.
The man appeared to be very inured. His arm and his shoulder were broken. I understand the pain he had. My own pain was breaking through my third shot of dalaudid that night. I was not in the best mood myself.
However the vileness that came out of this mans mouth, at the top of his lungs, ought to be punishable by law. Actually, they had to call the police. Not the security, the POLICE.
Not just the standard MF and G-D we have become used to in everyday life. But the heroes that brought him in, turning the air blue the whole way, and all the nurses and doctors who were trying patiently and kindly to treat him in no way deserved the c-word he flung at them during the process. Men and women alike were both painted with the c-word brush.
How a person can treat the people trying to help alleviate your pain like that I will never know. How can you expect someone to give you their all while being abused.
Then I think. . . I don't know what it's like to live in his life. What daemons are running around in his head? Is there is an illness that makes this behavior beyond his control?
I can't make that call. I do know that I may not have been able to be as gracious and caring as the men and women who treated this sad man.
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