I’ve since thought, who would I rather have visit me in the hospital—the dour serious relative, or one that will screw with my mind a bit....
I’ll take the one that will screw with my mind.
I can’t stand dour people in a hospital setting.
Nurse came in and said my Mom had driven all the way to New Mexico because they were told I was going to die. And Mom wanted to see me.
I told the nurse to give me a minute, rolled my head to the side, crossed my eyes, and started drooling.
The nurse actually slapped my shoulder and called me an unkind name as she was laughing.
Hey. Being serious or whiney doesn't change the outcome. That's in God's Hands.
And laughter is the best medicine.
/johnny