THE KINGDOM OF NUMB

          Yesterday, after Sarah and I piled her delicious baking wares into "Buddy", our big old green diesel truck, we drove off to the Woodstock Farmer's Market, which is what we usually do each Friday morning.  As we drove, an impending snow storm on the prowl was on our minds; the sun like a mischievous child playing hide 'n' seek amidst the building clouds, occasionally glinting into our eyes reinforced those thoughts.
          Either yesterday or today, was the day that Sarah and I first got together; both of us in a rather different traumatic state of mind, which had been caused by some dramatic and tragic events that had recently occurred.   Since we had been friends for almost 20 years and Sarah was in the midst of moving, she had invited me to come over for supper and help out with the packing.  However, after dinner and her girls had gone to bed, rather than working on the move, we sat and talked.  How long we talked I have no idea but what is often the case, when two people who are in a lot of emotional pain, one thing led to another and it wasn't long before I spilt red wine all over her yellow couch as we lustfully grasped some happiness and need from each other, not realizing that from that night on, we would begin to see each other on a regular basis, fall in love and get married.  So although our wedding anniversary isn't until July 7th, we still like to celebrate the day when our friendship grew into something wonderful and meaningful, a love, which hopefully, will last a lifetime.
          The Farmer's Market was very slow this Friday; hardly any people showed up, let alone bought anything.  But despite the lack of people, Sarah still managed to sell some of her baking and a couple of dozen eggs.  The board of directors at the Farmer's Market are having an election very soon, some of the members stepping down from their positions.  The president asked us if we were interested in being elected to the board but since Sarah and I have had enough of boards and committees, having both been involved up to our necks and beyond with the VIEx in Nanaimo for a number of years, we both declined.   Woodstock is too far to go for meetings, and also, some of the strong views we have regarding the Farmer's Market would probably not be acceptable by many of the people, so it's best if we just pay our monthly fees and try to sell our wares.  As much as we enjoy our social time at the market on Fridays, we realize that what we do is not a hobby but a way of earning an income; we're hoping that our little Golden Unicorn Farm will eventually earn us a modest living.
          Since cleaning out the barn, especially the chicken coop last week, I've been in quite a lot of pain; actually rather severe pain, which causes me to limp around like an old man - oh yeah - I am an old man. Seems pushing a wheelbarrow through deep snow when it's filled to the brim with heavy, steamy, odourous manure caused my arthritic, compressed lower back discs to hurt like hell - it was not a good idea - must have pinched the sciatica nerve too because the pain sometimes shoots down my left leg.  Because the pain at times has been rather excruciating and Sarah's blood results were ready on Friday, after we finished at the Farmer's Market we headed to the hospital.  Upon arriving at the Kingdom of Numb, a nurse ushered me into a small room and while taking my blood pressure, she asked, "Are you complete?"
          A little confused about her question I answered, "The last time I looked, I was complete."
          Suddenly she burst into uncontrollable laughter and said, "I didn't ask if you were complete; I said, what's your complaint?"
          After I told her that I'd hurt my back and had difficulty walking around because of the pain, she asked me what my pain level was, if No. 1 was the lowest and No. 10 being the highest?  I told her, at the moment, it's about a No. 5 or lower, which after returning to the waiting area, Sarah told me I should have said the pain was a lot higher because we were in Emergency - seems the worse off you are, the faster your problem is processed.  Although Sarah and I both napped in the waiting area on and off, sitting near a three year old boy who deliberately did as he was told not to was rather annoying.  As the minutes turned into hours and after nodding off during one of my short naps, I was rudely awakened by a man who was trying to give the little boy his Montreal hockey cap.  Fortunately, after the fearful little boy had crawled onto his mother's lap as the tall skinny man, with a completely bald head pursued his quest of giving the boy the cap, they were led away to have their problem sorted out.  Hoping the man would be quiet now, like shut the f--k up, and thinking my turn was next, unless some real emergency occurred, I chatted with Sarah over a cup of hot tea and a date square she had bought at the little cafe just down the hallway.
          However, the obnoxious bald, skinny man who was about 45 years of age, continued talking loudly to two people sitting on each side of him, who were apparently his mom and father or perhaps grandfather.  He said, " I can't believe I just fell face down and hit my head on the floor (he had a bump the size of a tennis ball on his forehead).  I don't know how it happened."
          His mother, a disgusting look on her drawn face said, "You didn't just fall; you passed out!"
          "No I didn't", he exclaimed rather loudly.  "I tripped on the clam chowder; you know, the thick chunks of what do ya call it?"
          At this point, in direct vision of one another, trying desperately hard no to make eye contact with the bald goof sitting a short way across from me, I almost burst into insane laughter.
          I don't know if baldy was on drugs or still drunk but he continued, "I'm going to get a job in the hospitality industry."
          His mother replied, "You'll have to get a phone then because after you've filled out the applications, they'll want to get a hold of you."
          "What do I want a phone for; I like that people can't get a hold of me."  After some reasoning with his mother, the dad just rolling his eyes, baldy said, "I guess you're right.  I'll get one hooked up tomorrow."
          How does one keep a straight face and not burst into gales of laughter; are these people inbred I thought, when his mom replied, "There's no use getting a phone; they're kicking you of your apartment at the end of the month for not paying your rent."
          Although the entertainment was somewhat delightful, I was glad when a woman arrived and ushered us in to see the doctor.  While we were waiting in a small room that was surrounded by a blue curtain, a smiling oriental doctor entered.  We were taken somewhat aback when the first words out of his mouth were, "I can't believe your 70 years old; you look like you're in your late 50's" and then looking at my wife continued, "This must be your daughter."
          Going from a bald, belligerent, banged on the head one too many times patient to a continually smiling, all the big white teeth in place doctor who then said, "How's your poopoo-peepee doing?" had Sarah and I in stitches - we couldn't contain our laughter any longer.
          After prodding me a bit, making me lift my legs one at a time and about to write me a prescription for pain killers, I said what was really on my mind and the reason I came to the hospital, "My mother had cancer in her hip - would it be possible to have some X-rays taken?"
          The doctor agreed that was a good idea and after writing out the pain killer prescription, had a woman escort us to the X-ray room.  Not only my hip was hurting by this time, so were my sides from laughing so hard, especially when the X-ray person wearing a black T-shirt with a white skeleton silk-screened on it, proceeded to take the photos.
          So much for travelling to the Kingdom of Numb yesterday; both Sarah and I were glad to get home before the snow storm had arrived; almost a foot fell during the night.  Just think what it would have been like if the snow had started falling when we arrived at the hospital and it would have been impossible to leave - no - I can't even think about that - cheers, eh!