Wednesday, February 07, 2007

I would love to know...

...what is on my permanent record. All of them. Nearly every time you call the cable company, it is recorded and noted on your record. I'm sure that nearly every business you deal with, has some sort of record that you called, along with the response of the representative.
I'm pretty sure most records have me as an annoying customer. I'm polite, but very persistent when I call. For example, a few years ago I called the cable company. I wanted to know why it took so long to get my service. They told me that the work scheduled for winter had to be delayed because it was cold. I reminded the representative that it is cold every winter in New Jersey, so could he please come up with another reason, along with an estimate as to when the work would be completed. He was not happy, and needed to go speak to his supervosor. Eventually, I wound up speaking to the supervisor.
It seems that nearly every time I call any business, I have to speak to the supervisor.
But what I am really interested in reading would be the record of my last hospital stay.
Not so much for my near legendary battles with the dietary department, but for something much more personal.
Because my foot was operated on, I spent a lot of time in bed. I really could do little else.
One problem when one spends so much time laying in bed is that rashes may develop. So, to prevent this, I use baby wipes (Luv's rocks) after using the urinal. So far, so good. But privacy is an issue. I can't get up to pull the curtain, so I do the best I can.
I can go hours without seeing a nurse or aide. But I can guaranfreakintee that the minute I clean up after "going," a nurse will walk in the room. I go maybe 5 times a day, and at least 4 of those, the nurse will walk in. I can ring the call bell for 20 minutes and won't see anyone. Start using a baby wipe on me, and there is Nurse Hottie at the door, and me looking embarassed as can be. Which I suppose makes it even worse. Here I am fighting disease and promoting good health, and all she sees is some middle aged pervert fondling himself. Since it happens practically every time she walks in the room, what do you think is being written on my permanent record?