Tool Selection

Could be someone I know, someone I don't know, fictional characters, dead people. I don't care, I'm an equal opportunity complainer when it comes to complete dickwads.

Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.

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Saturday, January 2, 2010

Why Am I Still Surprised?

I am still amazed somehow at the levels of assholery people can sink to.  I should be immune.  My actual opinion is that I'm 33 years old, and in all my years I should have come across every kind of twat-faced scum monkey on the planet.  I mean, surely, eh?

Now that our ordeal with our daughter is over, and I've gotten some sleep, I'm finally able to write about the pricks we shared a hospital room with.

To get this out of the way, they were there because their 5 month old daughter had some sort of upper respiratory infection.  The baby was on oxygen and every cough sounded like a death rattle.  Both my husband and I were in anguish over that little baby almost as much as our own little girl.  This, and this alone, kept Mr. A and I from practicing some cunt punting.

We didn't get into the room on the first night until 3:00 or so in the morning.  It's normally a time that people choose to sleep, so I was expecting not to see our "roommates" until we woke up.  Not these guys.  They were up watching Beverly Hills Chihuahua.  Even before I knew what they were watching, I could hear it.  In the hallway.  Once in the room, I expected that these jerks would see that someone else and their sick kid was being set up in the room and turn down the volume.

I am so fucking naive.  They kept the TV going at a volume that could only have been intended for entertaining the whole hospital.  At the time, I was just glad to get into a room with my kid and I was so tired that I fell asleep regardless.

Now, everyone knows you don't actually get rest in the hospital.  Nurses have to appear every 15 minutes and look like they're checking something because they love that look of half-asleep indignation on your face.  Not to mention the general hallway chatter that ends up permeating the door, the PA screeching (literally one of the pages that kept sounding while I was there: "Attention: This is our routine test of the PA system."), the medical equipment beeping, and cleaning staff busting in on your ass to remove all that trash you accumulate at 4:00 in the morning.  What I'm getting at is that we didn't need Mr. and Mrs. Vampire to join in on the fun.

Throughout the next day, I learned something interesting: Mr. and Mrs. Vampire actually do sleep during the day.  Ha ha muthafucka!  Not anymore.  That day my poor girl got introduced to something she's never experienced before: an anal thermometer.  I won't go there.  I think it's abusive to stick things in a kid's ass.  At home we do an ear or armpit temp.  Once the end of that thermometer hit my kid's butt, she let out a scream that woke up coma patients in China.

Then in, what I'm convinced was, complete retalliation, they waited until my daughter was asleep and then invited 6 of their closest family members over to visit the baby.

>Bitch break: We were declining visitors.  Why?  Because what our kid had was contagious.  I'm not sure exactly what the hell virus that little baby had, but Mr. and Mrs. Vampire were hacking away in a way that lead me to believe that their child was also very contagious.  It was good to note that they weren't just being inconsiderate of us because we were strangers.  They didn't even ask what was wrong with our kid until the end of day 2.  They thought she broke her leg.  Despite a noticeable lack of cast or bandages. Despite the fact that she was walking to the bathroom to go potty...Anyway, my break is over.  Back to work<

Now there are 8 adults milling around this sick baby's crib.  They're all talking and cooing at the baby and not paying any attention at all to the fact that there was a sleeping preschooler in the bed they had to pass to get there.  Then I hear the weirdest thing coming from over there: "DIE!-DUH!.....DIE!DUH!....DIIIIIIIIIIIIE.....DUUUUUUUUUH!"  What in the everlovin' blankity-blank....?  I couldn't figure it out, but they kept saying it, emphatically.  DIE!DUH!

Finally, I noticed the patient board on their side of the room when I got up to take an Aleve for this brain-ripping headache I had for some reason: Dayda.  That's the kid's fucking name.  They named their precious child Die-Duh.  The bottle said I could have another Aleve, so I did.

After the family reunion was over, we got settled in again and Mr. A and I switched places.  He stayed with SuzieSicko for the night and I went home to remind our other child that he has a mommy.

When I went back the next morning, Mr. A was about ready to choke a bitch.  After 13 years of marriage, I recognize the look on his face.  He hadn't slept much, so I was asking how the overnight went.  Apparently, some time between midnight and 1 a.m., the Vampires called their family to chat.  Then put them on speakerphone to talk to the baby.  Aw!  Hubby got treated to his own heartwarming rendition of the DIIIIIIE! DUUUUUUUH! song.  Sweet!

The fam was back to visit the baby early the next day.  It's a great thing that I thought to bring some coloring books and crayons to keep my kid distracted because they kept moving the divider curtain to block our TV.  I'm going to highlight that in red to illustrate the color I saw every time I had to get up to move it back.  Fucking pricks.

We were discharged later that day and I was very proud that Mr. A somehow managed to remember to get out a very sincere, "We hope your daughter gets better soon."   I wasn't going to say a word to them.  About the only lesson from my mama that stuck was, "If you don't have anything nice to say to someone, don't say anything at all."  A friend of mine refers to it as "The Thumper Rule".  I was invoking that like a motherfucker on my way out.


Candice said...

FUCK YES! Someome who curses just as much as I do.

Sorry about your shitty hospital experience. Hopefully those fuckers get a horrible case of hemorrhoids. Not DIE- DUH though. His shitty name is punishment enough.

Awesomeness said...

Well, we know that Die-Duh has plenty of family to help take care of her if that should happen to occur.

I would wish hemorrhoids on the family members too, but they're probably busy hacking their lungs out trying to get rid of whatever Die-Duh has.

Dumb asses.

Bonehead said...

Glad to hear your daughter is better. Rest assured, someday it will be socially acceptable for the rest of us to smack tools like these in the head with a sack of hammers.

Until then - there's always blogging.

Awesomeness said...

Okay, so now I'm anxiously awaiting the day when I can have some hammer time with some of these people.

See what you did?

Amanda said...

Holy crap. I would have acted like a raving lunatic.

I'm good at that. Very good. Hope your little one is better...

Awesomeness said...

She's much better now, thanks!

But now her little brother is running a temp....