The Exception To The Rule

My wife, Donna, had taken our son, Jack, to a surgical center to have a minor procedure done and she had run into a problem, a nurse who was not willing to bend the rules.

Jack had to be put to sleep but before he was rolled into the operating room, the nurse-in-charge said, he had to put on a hospital gown, the drafty kind, open all the way down the back. Putting something like that on Jack was a lot easier said than done.

Jack with Brother Pop at Snowbird
Jack with Brother Pop at Snowbird

Jack is mentally handicapped and autistic.  He doesn’t do all that well with change. When he gets used to something one way, he wants it to stay that way. He insists. He looked scrawny in those days, but the fact was he could lift a baby elephant off his feet.

Donna knew there was no way Jack was going to put on that gown. The helper from the group home where he lived knew it too.

“He ain’t gonna wear that thing,” he said.

Donna suggested putting the gown on after Jack went to sleep but the nurse-in-charge said rules are rules.

So Donna said, sweetly, “Why don’t you put it on him.”

The nurse-in-charge said she would do just that and she took Jack to another room. A few minutes later she returned with Jack. He was not wearing the gown.

The nurse-in-charge said she had changed her mind. She said they could put it on later, after Jack went to sleep.

Coming Monday: What’s In A Name?

Hold Your Nose, Pat

An old friend of mine likes to get a good deal on a motel room and he often does, he told me.  He waits until 8 or 9 p.m., after most people have checked in, and he offers to pay, say, two thirds of the rack rate –the advertised price.  Then he bargains.  If the motel has a lot of empty rooms they can rent one to him for less than full price and make some money, or not, and make nothing.

On our way back to North Carolina I challenged him: Get us one of those cheap rooms.

We stopped at a pretty nice looking motel and he told me to stay in the car while he went in and made the deal. Maybe what he does is like that thing they say about sausage:  it’s good, but you don’t want to watch it being made.

Anyway, he came out in a few minutes, shaking his head. No deal. So we went to another, not so good motel. And another, further down the motel scale. He didn’t get a deal there, either, but the room was already so cheap it really didn’t matter.

As I got out of the car and started into the motel he advised me, in effect, to hold my nose — but not to worry.

“I’ve checked out the room,” he assured me. “It doesn’t smell as bad as the lobby.”

Coming Friday: The Exception To The Rule