>> Thursday, May 28, 2009
I can see everyone either quickly by-passing this story or eyes glued to it - POLE DANCING? LOL. Oh boy. But that's exactly what I've been doing since Tuesday afternoon. I've been doing the pole dance. If anyone has spent any time in a hospital, you of course have done the pole dance, too. The I.V. pole goes everywhere you go such as the bathroom, well, only the bathroom because that's usually as far as we feel like going or maybe up and down the busy, narrow hallways.
The pole gets tripped over. The tubing winds itself around and under the beautiful backless gown so that you're doing the hula to fix yourself. You also do the cha-cha-cha as you dance the pole around the floor to free the tubing from under or around the stand. I'm sure, after this visit, I could dance with the stars. Not to say that I wouldn't get disqualified, but I could, maybe, dance with the stars. Maybe? Okay, you're right.
It also makes you feel like an astronaut being tethered to the mother ship as you make that space walk. And you can only go as far as the tether will allow. Unless of course they unplug the pole from the wall and then you're free as a bee until it starts beeping because it's out of battery and no one else in the whole hospital hears it and you just can't stand it anymore so you climb out of bed, grab the tubing, so it doesn't get tripped over, grab the cord, move the dresser, bend over and around the bed, and then stick it in the socket. Of course, in all fairness to the hospital staff, all I had to do was push the red button and someone would have plugged it in for me - but, oh well.
Oh yes, by the time I leave here I'll be able to give pole dance lessons. I wonder how much I can charge. Maybe they should hire me on at the hospital to teach new patients, you think? Okay, never mind. But I'm sure others could learn from my experience. Maybe I'll leave a set of written instructions hanging from the pole. Oh, I know - I can leave a pattern on the floor. All the patient would have to do is follow the foot prints. Now that, my friends, is an excellently... awful idea, I know. Okay.
So whatever. Maybe pole dancing isn't for the faint of heart. I'll accept my God-given talent with both pride and humility. But maybe - just maybe one of you wants to buy your own I.V. pole for home, to - you know - okay, never mind. But it is an idea. Maybe I'll market the new dance on the home shopping channel and then... I better go copyright my idea before I write anything more.
But anyway, I'm getting quite good at the pole dance but will be more than ready to leave it behind, that and the I.V. stuck inside my wrist. No, pole dancing is definitely not for the faint of heart, but you know what? Maybe I shouldn't say. Oh well. Here goes - I met an especially cute guy nurse that can take over teaching the pole dance lessons. Rodster’s his name, nursing is his game.
Here I go - hospital gown on body and I.V. pole in hand - no, wait a minute - am I done up in back? Don't want to give THAT kind of show. Okay. Ready. Cha-cha-cha!!!!
P.S. I just got back from walking the pole and it is with a humble heart that I write this. I stubbed my toe on the thing, I tripped, and when I got back I was all wound up and couldn't figure out how to unwind it AND I just about had to push the red HELP button. This was REALLY serious! But anyway... cha-cha- cha!!! I'm good now:)
Together we can let the tears fall but we can also wipe them away when we’re finished and know that God is in control. He knows what we’re going through. He’s holding our hand through it all, even in the bleakest, darkest times, especially then.
Okay now, let’s get up out of that bed and do the pole dance together. How about the chicken dance this time? Wouldn't that be a picture? Oh boy:)