Waiting on a friend.

*names, minor details changed to protect anonymity. . .you know the deal, people.

 I'm not waiting on a lady

I'm just waiting on a friend

- from the Rolling Stones "Waiting on a Friend"

 _________________________________________________________

This month on rounds at Grady:

Looking for Mr. Logan. The last person I need to see for the afternoon.

Patient not in bed. Light coming from beneath bathroom door in patient's room.

(Through the door.)

"Mr. Logan? Mr. Logan, sir? It's me, Dr. Manning."

"Yes'm! I'm here on the commode."

"Okay, sir. I'll come back in a little bit, okay?"

"Alright then."

Fifteen minutes later.

"Mr. Logan? Mr. Logan, sir? It's me, Dr. Manning."

"Hey Miss Manning! I'm in here on the commode."

"You okay, sir?"

"I'm alright. Thank I'm starting to run off so I'm jest stayin' here for now. My stomach is boiling."
 ("run off" = diarrhea)

"Umm. . . okay. Mr. Logan, I'm here to see about you. I need to examine you sir."

"Naww. You need to do somethin' 'bout my stomach."

"We actually just started you on a medicine called metro-ni-dazole for the diarrhea, sir. We can also give you something for your stomach."

"Alright then."

(Still through the door.)

"Listen. . . .Mr. Logan, sir? I'll give you a few more minutes and come back, okay?"

"Mmmm hmmmm."

Forty-five minutes later.

Grrrr. Patient still not in bed. Light below bathroom on. Grrrr.

"Mr. Logan? Mr. Logan, sir? You still on the commode?"

"Yes'm!"

"Sir, your stomach is still boiling?"

"No, Miss Manning. It's calmed down. The medicine helped it."

"Oh okay. . . . .so. . .what are you doing in there now?"

"Now I'm jest settin' here thankin'.  Sometimes I get some good thankin' done on the commode. Come on back, hear?"

Really?

"Uhhh, Mr. Logan, sir?  I really need to examine you. . . . "

"Jest come on in here then."

Eeewww. Really?

"Ugggghhh. . . .Mr. Logan, sir?" (Yes, I groaned.)

"Yes'm?"

"I'm not examining you on the commode, sir. I'm gonna need you to come and do your thanking out here."

Silence.

Door finally opens. Mr. Logan shuffles out pushing IV pole and carrying a Word Find book. Looks at me, narrows his eyes, and sits on the edge of the bed in an irritated huff.

I come at him with my stethoscope. He looks at me and says:

"Damn, you bossy."

***

I love this job.