what can brown do for you?
MJE is just back from her pre-op appointment. Nurse Holly was my angel of mercy today. We went through my medical history, medications and bad lifestyle choices, yet again. When she got to the drinking bit, the max option was 3+ a night. She allowed that she sure couldn’t get through life without her daily ration of wine and marked me down as a “moderate” imbiber, bless her heart. From there to drawing blood, a task at which she declared herself to be particularly adept. Well couldn’t prove it by me, (one too many last night Holly?)…holy cow, felt like I’d been worked over by rookie acupuncturist. But then the EKG: perfect! I requested that certified copies be sent to my children who are of the opinion that my heart is a non-functioning organ like tonsils or an appendix. Wrong! it works fine but it just doesn’t give a crap.
Then on to finding a notary to stamp my “Advanced Health Care Power of Attorney.” Toddled over to my bank first where there is a notary who can sign everything but powers of attorney. She helpfully directed me to the UPS store in the Walmart shopping center. There, above the screeching din of the packing tape dispenser, I tried to communicate the need for a public notary who could put an official stamp to my last wishes. The manager, Gomez Addams, declared that for $5 a punch he could do the deed. But I was short a witness. I needed more than the taping fool in the back for this business. The notary suggested that I check the computer game store next door for a spare literate. Well as my readers know it’s not easy to find a literate person in even the most promising of milieus, but a Walmart shopping center is certainly the least hospitable environment in which to search. But search I did. Sadly the game store was manned by a single large lesbian who refused to leave her post. She suggested I try the Mexican restaurant two doors over. Hmmmm, I pondered the legality of the signature of an undocumented resident in this capacity and decided to broaden the perimeter. I spied a slum lord furniture rental place and made a bee line. Some half witted kid was listlessly dusting massive television screens and I asked if he could take a second out of his busy day to come witness my signature. I might as well have asked him if he’d be able to rent a tux and limo and take me to the prom. Tonight. And bring a corsage. Completely baffled, he lethargically kicked it up to management via a second equally diligent employee. I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that discussion. After a protracted pow wow in the manager’s office, Thing 2 reluctantly emerged looking like she was about to face a firing squad.
So back to the UPS office with my new old friend Cha-qweeta. I laid out the paperwork, and Gomez, Cha-qweeta and the nameless packing tapist set about our business. In five minutes, in the UPS office in the Walmart shopping center my directives for end of life decisions were rendered legally binding.