I don’t usually write Medium.com posts via iPhone, but here I am, having embedded a mediocre photo of my hospital food vertically instead of horizontally and wondering (after too many hours) “When am I goin’ home?”
It is 5:27 p.m.
About 12 hours ago I wrote my first iPhone M-dot-com post. An update seemed appropriate, so I popped one out. What I’m writing right now was supposed to my farewell song, but Tia, a fine nurse with a great west North Carolina accent, tells me, “No word yet.”
Though I’ve already initialed and signed a number of preliminary discharge papers, it appears that a (if not the) cardiologist has the final word.
And so I wait, a status I perfected during Navy bootcamp at Great Lakes back in 1967 when our drill instructor marched us quick-step across that great base so we could show up early for a class — and then wait, “forever,” outside.
I won’t dribble-drabble on about waiting — though I could, but why do that? You’ve suffered enough.
Short version: Waiting builds character — which is probably why I’m such a character today.
From my iPhone.
