Let me tell you about a Monday, just one Monday, an up and down Monday, last Monday.
It started early; K had an appointment in the city to get her knee scoped. It was an early appointment, so we had to be on the go early. It snowed the day before, so I was on the go even earlier, clearing a path to the car and a path out of the driveway. It was all a bit of a mad push to get ready, feed the dogs, gulp down a half cup of coffee, and make a run for it. It was still snowing a bit, so I had to drive carefully. Yep, arrived to see the boat sailing away from the dock. Monday.
So we sat and waited, both of us groggy from lack of sleep, lack of coffee (K wasn’t allowed to have any before the surgery), silently willing the next boat to magically appear. It eventually did, right on schedule. The wind was up and she tossed about a bit, but all in all, not a bad crossing. Being groggy helped, I think.
We arrived at the hospital in plenty of time, but K had her book and sent me on my way to run errands. (I would rather have stayed with her, but…) Anyway, first stop for me a coffee shop for a tall mug and a chat with a friend. So far, not so bad at all. Yup, spoke too soon.
I hit the road again and a warning light came on the instrument panel. “I wonder what that means?” Just then a truck went by and splattered the windshield with gunk. The wipers only managed to spread it around. Ok, that little orange light means you’re out of windshield washer fluid. Good to know.
So I pulled in to the first gas station I could find. Ah huh, completely self serve. Monday. I bought some over priced washer fluid then set to work. If there is anything I despise it is getting automobile grease, especially the old gritty stuff, all over me. So there I was, standing in the freezing cold, the wind whipping snow and my hair into my face as it blew the fluid everywhere but where I wanted it, and my hands covered in dirty grease. When the container was empty I went back inside to the washroom and tried to clean myself up. Did I mention I hate getting grease on my hands?
Ok, back on the road, wipers working fine, window staying fairly clear, and errands nearly finished, I noticed my favorite store was having a sale. Hmm, well, the errands are done, it is still early, and K doesn’t expect to be ready before , why not?
A while later, to be exact, I was standing in the change room, stripped off, when I suddenly heard the Rolling Stones playing Satisfaction. That could mean only one thing, my phone was ringing. “Hello, Ms. MacLeod, this is the hospital, your charge is ready to be picked up now.” Bugger! “OK, I’ll be right there.” Sure I will, I’m all the way across town. Argh
I pulled my clothes on and bolted for the check outs, clutching the one dress I really wanted. There was a small line up at each of the four check outs, but nothing scary, so I popped into the shortest line. Two minutes later I heard the following, expressed by three different checkout girls, each speaking in turn. “WTH? Crap! Dammit all!” yep, Monday. Three of the four check out computers had frozen completely, leaving only one working. I was now in the wrong line. A sudden flurry of activity, a shoulder block or two, and the occasional elbow later, we all managed to settle into one long line.
At this point the woman at the front of the line began to dispute the price of one of her items. If I had been close enough I would have taken her by the ear and pulled her away from the till, but to do that from where I was would cost me my place in line. I could just take off, but K was safe in a hospital, nothing bad could happen to her there, and I was not leaving without that dress. If the song “Monday, Monday” had come on the speakers I am sure I would have screamed.
Ok, eventually got the dress and was back in the car. I was extremely careful to obey all speed limits on my way back across town to the hospital. Uh huh! Once in the parking lot it was a chore to find parking within a mile of the doors. Ok, found one, fed the greedy meter and made a run for the door. It was a bit of a hike through a snowstorm, but ya do what ya gotta do, right?
This hospital is called the Health Sciences. It should be called the place build by a paranoid mental patient who didn’t want anybody to find their way in, and if they do, they will not be able to find their way out again. In I went, fully intent on finding my sweetie.
Ten minutes of confusing corridors and bad directions later, I knew I was on the right floor and in the correct wing. I poked my head into a room of people sitting about shooting the breeze, and asked directions. “This is the doctor’s lounge!” Fair enough, dude, but that wasn’t what I asked you. Oh well, onward. Ah, there’s a man with a broom, I’ll ask him.
The man was a prince. With him in the lead through three twisted turns and more, I was at the reception area for Day Surgery. One of the ladies there took me to the recovery area where several women were sitting about chatting. K wasn’t one of them. I inquired and was led to a bed area where a smiling K was waiting for me. “Look, Honey, I’ve almost finished reading my book.” Nope, she wasn’t mad. She never gets mad at me. My life is blessed.
I signed one piece of paper then was told to go bring the car to the door, they would bring K out in a wheel chair. I spent twenty minutes lost in this alien warren just so I could be sent back out again? Seriously? Monday. Ok, the way out was a bit easier. Someone had taped handwritten signs to all the doors. “This Way Out!” with an arrow to point the way. Whoever you are, I hope Santa is good to you.
OK, the rest of the day sort of followed that theme, but you get the idea. Mondays can be a trial sometimes. So, how was your Monday?