TRIALS OF ST TIMMY'S 31
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THE TRIALS AT ST TIMMY'S --
The Continued Saga of Paul Ess's Rehabilitation
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This is episode 31. Well, they took The Chink back to the really
hospital. I don't know what went wrong with him (it certainly
wasn't his volume knob) but I hope it isn't trivial ... old
bastard... The day before they spirited him away his family was
here. I had the corridor door closed and both shared bathroom
doors closed yet I could still hear them arguing. Finally one of
them who evidently is the grandson blew up totally, berating Mrs
Chink in this wise: You know, your son is a complete fucking
asshole. Whoohoo!
Two of the greatgrandchinklets[tm] were on the patio screwing
around with aerosol paint cans. The patio wall now looks like
modern art instead of the regulation dogshit green. Now that the
old fuck is out of here, Franny, Buzzard, and Mr Salazar are all
three much more quiet than when The Chink was here to lead the
operatic chorus from hell.
I don't absolutely have to wear my earplugs to bed any longer, at
least not until around five o'clock when these idiotic overnight
CNAs start cleaning all the nasty asses they've been ignoring all
shift. They must use half the water in the Hayweird Reservoir
knocking grogans and liquishit off the dydees and bed clothes.
Some of these people get really creative with shit sculpting.
Buzzard had it all over both hands, both bedrails, and all the
bedclothes one afternoon when he was superbly pissed off about
something. They probably forgot to give him his HappyJuice and
maybe he likes that druggy feeling.
It isn't enough that the turdblasting sounds like a small
firehose gone amok, the CNAs have to yell to each other up and
down the corridors which are highly sound-reflective. They tend
also to wear sneakers whose rubber heels squeal on the tile.
Otherwise it's just fine and dandy around the goddam tardfarm so
shut the fuck UP, bitch!
Miss Ralph came in to see me this afternoon. "She" wanted a
little professional abuse and so told me about the party she did
not go to this weekend. Seems a female staff member who also has
FAG (Fully Adaptable Gaydar) invited Miss R to accompany her to a
shindig in Frisko because she wanted to fix Miss R up with a cute
red-headed boy (are you reading this carefully, Mr Cheez?) with
the DoD* (and I don't mean the Department of Defense). So I
called the bitch a Cunt a few times and tried my best to make
"her" feel bad for being such a pussy and not going to meet "her"
fate.
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*Dick of Death, for you numbnuts
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We also discussed the visit I had from that shrink who followed
me over here from The ERR. It seems shrinkezoid left a confusing
order written in my chart, something about Initiate Discharge
Planning. You can read the second half of Timmy's #30 for the
background, most of which Miss Ralph and I went over between
dishing. The only discharge planning which can be done
immediately is for me to lose ten pounds which will materially
assist me in transferring from chair to potty and back. At this
moment I have eight to go. I'm not happy with a minimum wait of
at least six months to get an ADA-compliant place. Perhaps I
ought to consider a tardhive[tm] set up for independent living
which is out here in the weeds but very close to the rancid
trapid system. I can't afford to pay monthly storage on my
household goods much longer. Alors, I might have to move to
Berzerkeley!
I poked my head out of the room today and noticed that they have
a container of St Timmy's brochures up for people to abscond
with. So I absconded. Check it out:
SAINT TIMOTHY CONVALESCENT HOSPITAL
A Quality Skilled Nursing & Rehabilitation Facility
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12345 Tardfarm Lane
Haywierd, CA 94567
(510) 555-1212
WELCOME
At St Timothy Convalescent Hospital, we are dedicated to
providing quality, compassionate nursing care to meet the
changing needs of our residents. [Just don't try to nail anybody
down about this.]
Our goal is to care for each resident in a manner that reflects
concern for their needs and respect for their dignity. [We do,
however, reserve the right to walk in AS WE ARE KNOCKING in order
to catch you sticking your business in the pisspot.] We have a
staff who belives that life should be lived to its fullest. We
are didicated to helping each resident do just that. [That's why
we make sure your tube feeder never runs out.]
Welcome to St Timothy Convalescent Hospital. [Actually, we roll
out the _big_ mat for your private insurance but we're not as
picky as St Puke's and them.]
RESIDENT CARE
St Timothy Convalescent Hospital is certified by Medicare and by
Medi-Cal. [We stick you in a claustrophobic room if you don't
have as much money as we really want to get from you.] Residents
are encouraged to participate with our staff in the development
of their individualized plan of care. [But don't try to get hold
of the doctor we assign you' he only comes here when he can hit
everybody at once and bill one hour to leventy-seven different
souls.] Our team of health care professionals is led by a
licensed administrator. [We don't see much of her -- she must be
busy administrating.] A local physician serves as our medical
director and as advisor of medical practices. [He hasn't got a
rich enough private practice so he lurks here.]
Registered nurses, licensed vocational nurses, and certified
nursing assistants work together with other members of our staff
to provide care at all levels of medical need, from assistance
with bathing, dressing, and medications to total personal care
and skilled nursing services. {We also walk in and out of your
room like we owned the place -- which we do, and don't you forget
it!]
ACTIVITES
The team at St Timothy Convalsecent Hospital encourages residents
to pursue interests and activities that allow them to maintain
meaningful, fulfilling lives. [Except for that fat old queer in
15B with that fuckin' computer mess -- what a mistake letting him
in here was.] Our trained activity director regularly schedules
therapeutic and leisure activities that reflect the interests and
abilities of our residents. [She turns private activities into
media events, like if you get your ass planted on your
boyfriend's motorcylce and everything -- she's right there with
the Polaroid and won't even give you one.] Activities include a
Residents' Council, exercise programs, arts and crafts, and
religious services. [The Council is five old ladies who forget
the new business just as soon as it becomes old business.
Exercise is beating on plastic drums with wood sticks to crummy
overly loud music. Arts and crafts are mainly bingo -- oh well,
at least we don't have to glue glitter on hilariously awful shit.
The Catholic priest comes here on Monday to pass out the
leftovers. The Babbletists quit coming altogether.] [Thank Glub
I have a computer and the internet and that they don't bitch
about the electrical consumption. Yet.]
Our activity department also plans frequent evening
entertainment, field trips, and events that involve community
members of all ages. [The volunteer roster has had one name on
it since I have been here, about two months. The one "field
trip" was that picnic where the transportation about killed us.
I wanna go to the mall! I wanna go shopping! Can't you imagine
all us crumblies and tards roaring through in our wheelchairs?
Community members don't know this place exists -- they wouldn't
want to be reminded they are going to get fucked up someday.]
FEATURES
Our design features create a safe, secure environment where
residents feel at home. [Quite so if you are used to having
neighbors and the servants waltzing in and out as they please.
We're so homelike you can even have your "residence" burglarized
as I have.] Specific features include semi-private rooms, a 24-
hour call light system, and laundry facilities. [Semi-private
means living with someone who, in the majority of instances,
could be arrested for disturbing the peace. The call lights are
just like 911 and the nurses are as slow as the cops. The
laundry will lose your shit if you haven't got a friend in the
business.]
Residents also enjoy a centrally located dining room and
landscaped patio for each room. [The dining room comes with
complimentary blaring teevee or throbbing stereo set to whatever
the staff want to watch/hear. The landscaping is what they call
"mature" -- it needs pruning desperately. Cat mating ritual
entertainment is provided at no extra charge.]
DINING
Meals at St Timothy's Convalescent Hospital are served in a
relaxed, cheerful atmosphere to encourage visiting and
friendships. [We recommend you use sign language as you will not
be able to hear yourself think for the jailhouse chowhall chatter
and dish banging.] Our staff works with certified dietary
consultants to prepare well-balanced, nutritious meals. [Most of
the cooking is about as interesting as a smelly vitamin pill.]
In addition to our holiday meals, complete with all the
trimmings, residents often enjoy special meals they have planned
themselves. Families and friends are welcome to dine with
residents and to help us celebrate birthdays and other special
occasions. [I missed Xmas and Oestre and my barfday. Mr Cheez,
soup's on ... shut up and eat that! -- I do!]
REHABILITATION
Rehabilitation therapy is a strong part of our total care program
at St Timothy Convalescent Hospital. For short-term residents,
therapy helps speed recovery so they can return home as soon as
possible. Long-term residents benefit from therapy which helps
maintain the quality of their lives by enabling them to be more
independent. [But the goddam nurses will not let you alone to do
it by yourself unless you scream at them to get out of the
fucking way.]
Rehabilitation therapists work with residents to develop
individualized physical, occupational, and speech therapy
programs. [All of this comes at extra cost and in no case is it
free, complimentary, or just thrown in to be nice.]
Our therapy team specializes in stroke rehabilitation, the
treatment of orthopedic injuries such as hip fractures, and in
the treatment of arthritic conditions. [They get your stroked-
out ass up with a walker and you do the hall twice a day. For
hip fractures they order a special wheelchair with a reclining
back and stick your ass in that all day. Orthopedics? Who?
What? Oh! -- you mean that slideboard bit the gimps do.]
Enthusiastic, creative professionals take a personal interest in
each resident. [Like, let's get all your therapy sessions in by
the end of the month so I can bill bill bill...]
Come see us for a tour! [We'll have everybody drugged out of
their tattered minds so it'll be quiet when you come.]
[ map ]
This brochure produced compliments of:
[ a local rehabilitiation consortium ]
That's the brochure. Doesn't it make the place sound great? And
St Timmy's didn't have to pay a cent to have it made and printed.
No, this was taken care of by the grhooooop to which the physical
and occupations therapists belong as employees or as independent
contractors, I'm not sure which. You see what I mean about these
caregivers all being in bed with each other? It is to the
therapy grhooooop's advantage to advertise the places from which
they get their captive clientele. Maybe I'm offbase here, but I
just think it would be more economical for the hospital to employ
therapists or have independent therapists on call instead of
involving yet another company with its overhead.
RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWRRRRRRR!!! Gee, there's a physicked
cat outside. I wheeled to the patio door to see what was going
on. There is an old charcoal cat staring down a pretty pearl
grey and white cat. Miss Pearl has her cooch dead flat on the
ground and away from the pounce of Mr Tom. Mr Tom lunges at Miss
Pearl and is rewarded with a deadly connecting swipe and another
RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWRRRRRRR!!! They continue to stare
each other down while Miss Pearl moves her cooch more and more
out of harm's way. They both have tails fanning slowly against
the sandy ground. RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR says Miss Pearl
in that resonant throatiness which argues part Siamese. Miss
Pearl now has her playpen backed toward the fence. Mr Tom is
shit out of luck if he thinks he's gonna get any pussy. Mr Tom
is resigned to blueballs and takes leave. He slowly crawls
through a gap in the fence boards. But I can see him through the
cracks. He's no dummy; he's circling around. He sneaks through
the fence behind Miss Frigidity and POUNCES! Free pussy at last!
They were right -- it only takes a split second for Ole Tom to
nail her twat. RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWRRRRRRR!!!
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