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Greg Razran

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At The Emergency Room, Just After Midnight
by Greg Razran
Friday, August 20, 2004
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Greg Razran
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           >> View all 37

I am back again; this time there’s something in my eye;
I freak out, -- blindness tops my list of fears and what ifs.
I get to Lourdes in five minutes flat; leave the car unlocked.
The room is brightly lit, but oozes of chlorine, despair,
And something else I can’t quite put my finger on.
I notice that the snack machine is filled with Oreos,
Wise Potato Chips, and various sugared treats.
A Way for the hospital to generate repeat customers?
I can’t help but chuckle in amazement.

I am checked in, and start people watching,
But the night is slow ; everyone is out of town
And will have to be both hurt and treated on the road.
I recognize two of the usual suspects: Jenny Wilkins,
The now forgotten winner of the 1997 Miss Unadilla title;
A little chubbier, but still decent-looking. It’s hard to tell
What brought her here; definitely no gunshot wounds this time, at least.
I smile at her and she smiles back, tired and washed out, in general.
The other familiar face is that guy in the red flannel shirt and overalls.
I usually see him walking down Main Street, carrying a twelve- pack;
Once, back in summer, I found him on the corner of Court and State;
He was dressed as an Elf and kept chanting “Le’ggo my Eggo.”
I did, and kept moving, curious to find out what the hell was going on,
But not brave enough – or crazy enough to stick around.

I am finally called in; it’s been three hours; I spend another hour
Waiting for the nurse in a curtain-lined examination room.
She comes in, exhausted but very friendly and cheery;
She’s Filipino; I chat with her in Spanish; she’s impressed.
She tells me it’s nothing serious; no need to get a guide dog;
I am relieved. She puts some Visine into my eye and gives me
Another bottle of it to go. “Every four hours; as needed,”
She says in English, and pulls back the curtain.
“Thank You,” I say, and before I know it, she’s gone.

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Reviewed by Tracey L. O' Very (Reader) 1/28/2005
Emergency rooms. So slow, The other two there with you Loved your tales of them. No gunshots this time? leggo of my eggo. Cute poem of the truth of the hospitals and great observation of the vending machines. job security : )
Thanks for this
Love Tracey
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 8/21/2004
terrific stuff, greg! sounds like some of the stuff i have written about emergency rooms; i have a series of stories about paramedics and nurses!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D
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