Herb the Germaphobe visits the hospital
Greetings from the Ridge.
My list of places that I can’t take my husband Herb grows longer by the day. Today I added hospitals to my catalogue of banned spots.
We were visiting a good friend who was mending her way out of some sort of surgery and for once Herbie thought he’d ride along. Normally the man avoids anything even vaguely medical fearing that if he’s around someone with a broken leg he might catch it. Actually, it’s the old poop’s aversion to any sort of pain that causes him to shy away from folks who are experiencing their own misery.
Our family doctor gives him two days of sedation pills prior to his flu shot. I always advise the attending nurse to just hit him over the head with a bedpan and be done with it, but she always claims that the insurance won’t cover the cost of the pan.