The King, Princess and I went to sit with him and keep him entertained. Yes, I said entertained. I know he didn't feel well, but we thought he should keep his mind off his troubles.
Apparently the docs at this hospital go for the entertainment, as well. Dr. Whomever had this cool pager/speaker/techno thing on her doctor coat that spoke to her and she could speak into. (You followed that, didn't you?) Anyway, while Dr. W was leaning over dad to check something or other, the pager/speaker/techno thing said:
"Dr. W, can you speak with Dr. Somebody?"
Dr. W said she could.
Dr. S (a man) then says, "Bill Smith needs a pelvic exam in room 1" and bursts into fits of laughter.
Back to dad. Well, not really.
So after I've checked all his vitals on that screen thingy, I began scanning the room. Behind his bed is this whatchamacalit that you would hit if, the patient starts to, you know, kick it.
Unbelievably, this is TAPED over it.
Heaven forbid the doctor forgets and dials code blue. Or 4321. Or 2345.
Wouldn't that be on your priority fix-it list?
"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Heart Trouble...I can't seem to recall the proper number to dial while our Code Blue is out of order."
"I would be calling to save your life, however, I'm unable to reach the phone because my hands are a little busy pumping your chest."