[Leica] IMG: Houston, we've got a problem

[Douglas Barry]

Haven't been around for a while, least of all doing any photography. 
However, wending my weary way into hospital this morning for a 
photographic procedure with a large Olympus (a cystoscopy - not a great 
experience, unpleasant in fact - so unpleasant, I almost admitted, under 
the torture, to hanging Jeffrey Epstein), I came across this 
http://gallery.leica-users.org/v/DouglasBray/Houston+-+we_ve+got+a+problem.jpg.html 


Apparently an elderly man in his 90s, arriving at the hospital car park, 
had an issue with his automatic, and pressed hard on the accelerator 
instead of the brake. He smashed through the toll barrier, shot off the 
road, ploughed through a flower bed and a hedge, and scattered 
pedestrians before coming to a rest here. No one was hurt. At least, it 
happened close to excellent medical help...

Douglas
who is discovering the perils of old age as he has had to put his mother 
in a nursing home to recover after a fall at her home. There was blood 
everywhere - it looked like a scene from Psycho except it was in living 
colour. The fall had happened at 1am and she hadn't wanted to disturb us 
by ringing us at that hour of the night so had tried to staunch the flow 
herself, and dripped over several rooms looking for bandages. She them 
tried to clean up after herself in the dim light and smeared it 
everywhere. I had to get the local Winston Wolfe in to decontaminate the 
place. She had to be hospitalised as well as needing stitches, her BP 
was 220/120 which, even allowing for the fact she'll be 96 in January, 
was more than a bit too high. Now the BP has come down and stabilised, 
she's brighter - despite an edgy incident in the hospital a couple of 
weeks ago.

I was visiting her in her two bedded close observation room that she 
shared with a woman called Mary who had cardiac problems. As I arrived I 
said hello to Mary who was out of bed for the first time in about ten 
days, sitting in a chair beside her bed reading, and exchanged a few 
words, before sitting down and pulling the curtain between the two beds. 
My mother and I were talking for about twenty minutes, when I heard a 
sort of cough, quickly followed by more strange sounds. Exchanging 
glances with my mother, I got up, looked around the curtain, and saw 
that an ashen faced Mary was slumped sideways in her chair vomiting. 
Worse, like some rock stars, she seemed to be choking on it. I raced - 
well, hobbled quickly as I have two bad knees - to the nurse's desk and 
told the nurses that she was having a heart attack, getting a look in 
askance in return. The nurse rose sedately and walked in to the room as 
I gibbered beside her. She then saw Mary in extremis and sprinted to an 
alarm button where upon the room filled quickly with bodies clothed in 
blue and green. It was like a scene from ER as controlled, but urgent, 
voices gave out instructions and responses.

I pulled the curtain all around my mother's bed to separate her from the 
crisis. She was clutching my hands and saying "What's happening?" and 
"Poor Mary" and looking very woebegone. I did my best to comfort her, 
and eventually, as the medics seemed to get some sort of control over 
the situation, she brightened, looked at me, and said "She's more than 
ten years younger than me". Pausing, she declared, "I'm still here!" 
Then "You can't kill a bad thing" smirking sardonically.

Life in its many aspects is always competitive...