The Taxman is at the Door

The Taxman cometh!  Time to pay up!  Remember this “George Harrison written” Beatles song, The Taxman:

 If you drive a car, I’ll tax the street;

If you try to sit, I’ll tax your seat;

If you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat;

If you take a walk, I’ll tax your feet.

 There is always something we must “pay up” about.  Time and our own behaviors eventually catch up with us for sure.  I was at the hospital most of yesterday with my best friend and while sitting with her in post-op I was graphically reminded of just that fact.

These examples were shared by three of my friends’ fellow post-op patients.  I sat and listened in amazement and concern as the assigned RNs talked with their patients.

One man had drunk himself to the point where he was in need of a liver transplant.  The post-op nurse was giving him discharge instructions and it was amazing that, even having drunk to the point he has “killed” his liver, he still questioned whether it was alright to have an occasional cocktail.  Of course you all know the RN response but she further went on to very specifically and graphically tell him and his family what would happen should he continue to drink.  Even though I was aware of all the RN was sharing it was still shocking to hear.  The silence in the room became deafening.  The taxman is at the door.

A woman had been discussing all the problems she was dealing with in her family.  Many of her problems had to do with drug use, financial stressors and children who are irresponsible and depend on her to meet their every need.  She was informed that her stomach was full of ulcers.  Chronic stress and worry can do that to a person.  If left untreated she was told it could become cancerous.  The silence in the room became deafening.  The taxman is at the door.

Another man had been waiting for a number of hours past the time he was told he could be released.  The RN had made a number of calls to the responsible person who was to pick this man up from the hospital.  Nobody came.  The man was getting more frustrated as time went on and he made three calls to his family actually talking to a family member each time and trying to convince someone to come and take him home.  Finally a daughter showed up and he was released for home.  How sad I felt for that man.  What had happened in his life that nobody cared enough for him to give him a ride home – a simple ride home?  The silence in the room became deafening.  The taxman is at the door.

What a graphic reminder I got while sitting by the bedside of my friend.  Our actions and those of others have such an impact on our lives.  Will the silence in the room become deafening for you?  The taxman always shows up at the door!

“To each of us, our friends are the very best of humankind.” –  Anonymous