I see it, a parking stall centered between the two buildings that I have appointments in today and I only have to cross over two pedestrian intersections and cut through the bus depot to pull in. Everything’s in my favor, the intersections open, there are no buses in the loading zones; I arrive, pull in, fill the meter and I’m on my way.
I reach the entrance and the automatic doors open to the main lobby of the hospital. I feel like I have walked into a scene from Seinfeld. As I pass through reception, I over hear the hysterics of a young man expressing his upset because his cinnamon mocha latte had too much cinnamon.
I am making my way down the corridor when the security alarms sound. Now I know the rules, evacuate to the nearest emergency exit; I won a red ribbon in grade three for being the hallway monitor for my class during fire drill, but instead I keep walking down the hall towards my destination until I am immediately stopped by the security doors, locking down along the hallway. A staff announcement then came across the intercom identifying a hospital code. Understood the staff quickly scatter. A uniformed security officer then directed us all towards the main lobby exit. Walking past the vestibule we witnessed a man running through the courtyard outfitted in only a hospital gown and slippers trying to maneuver an intravenous pole attached to his arm. The temperature outside was -20C.Who would not have sympathy for him now running towards the parking lot entrance, with a hospital gown determined to divide like the red sea in the wind. I followed the line to the main lobby, where I decided instead of waiting in the crowd I would return to my car and listen to the morning news.
Turning on the radio, I noticed the snow from last night still had not been removed and made a mental note to be careful when walking back to the building. Regardless of the channel selected, I was not able to pick up an auditable station.
Turning down the radio, I realized that the noise was not in the radio but coming from outside. It sounded like tanks. I looked around the sides of the car and through my rear view mirror but saw nothing; I notice all the snow surrounding the car and lying on the sidewalk and road being pulled up in a twisting motion, creating a whiteout. Across from the adjacent parking pad I faintly see a small figure appearing dressed in a hospital uniform and a coat. He was trying to cross over the pad but was having no success keeping any traction in the wind gusts and blowing snow. He falls down and slides sideways into the snow drifts but gets up and again try’s to find his footing. He was carrying a small cooler that he was repeatedly dropping as he fell down. I hoped he was not transporting some vital organs. OOPPS there he goes, down again. Each time he rose he reached out looking for some type of support but found mothering. Finally he decided to try his luck crawling across the pad. Draped in a coat that would have fit a defensive linebacker he and his cooler started to slide across the pavement. His hood was fur lined (for any PETA readers, it was faux fur) that seemed to be acting more like a wind-sock dragging him back off his knees. The vibrations were increasing and my reaction was to get out and leave but then realized with everything that was going on outside of the car and getting worse by the second I would only be creating more trouble leaving. The wind gusts from above changed and hospital worker, as if positioned in front of an exhaust vent, came sliding across the pad right into my bumper. The gusts increased creating a snow mist eliminating any vision beyond the bumper. All I was able to see were the white knuckles of his hands, appearing and then disappearing. He attempted to repeatedly get up grasping onto the bumper but finding no traction on the ice to stay up.
Residing in a climate not known for hurricanes, typhoons, earthquakes, or, recognizing that global warming was something only happening to the south of us the creator of this kayos’ now hovers above. Now inn site was an emergency rescue helicopter descending very quickly onto the helicopter pad.
I had parked right beside the helicopter pad. No wonder it was available.
Once the helicopter landed and the blades disengaged the snow started to settle. Popping up from the winds of war and secured to my door handle was the somewhat rattled hospital worker now looking more like the Japanese Macaque, with his face flushed and snow clinging onto all tips of the faux fur, his eyelashes and eyebrows. Also rising from the hollow was the young man who I last saw running through the hospital courtyard. To my amazement he was still attached to his intravenous pole.
Hospital staff were quick to arrive and assist motioning me to remain in the car. That request was not going to be hard to handle.
In all the excitement the cooler had been was left lodged underneath my bumper. Returning to the hospital for my appointment I brought the cooler and left it at the reception desk. I did find out later that fortunately it was only being used to carry four black coffees.
The good news came later when I was travelling along the corridor towards the parking lot; I met the now fully clothed young man who was no longer hooked up to the intravenous pole. Somewhat embarrassed he walked up and introduced himself, apologized and explained that he had, after receiving some sedation for a scheduled prostate procedure had decided not to go through with it. Now with the procedure complete he was happy to report everything was fine.
And how was your day.
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