Tales from the O-NO Ranch: Women ain’t livestock
by “Mad” Jack Hanks
I sort of got myself in a jam the other day, gentle readers. I didn’t mean to, it was just one of those unintentional things that I manage to do without thinking.
It happened this-a-way: I was in the big box grocery store getting a prescription filled for little Miss Martha.
As I mentioned to you recently she is fighting cancer and I had gone to get some medication for her. She had been taken off her radiation treatments as her white cell blood count was low. The drug that I was getting for her was to be given in her stomach and the insurance company, get this, wouldn’t cover the cost if it was given to her at a clinic, doctor’s office or a hospital. There was only FOUR cc’s of drug and it was over $900. That meant that I, yes, Mad Jack, was to give the injections into my little darlin’s stomach.
When I picked up the drug there were two women pharmacist there and one woman waiting to pick up her prescription.
“Did ya know that this insurance company won’t cover the cost of this drug if it’s given in a professional setting?” I mentioned to one of the pharmacists.
“Sometimes they will do some very strange things in order to keep from covering a claim,” she softly spoke as we made eye contact.
“Well, I’m gonna be givin’ her these shots in her stomach. I’ve doctored lots of livestock in my lifetime,” I proudly boasted. The lady standing beside me quickly spoke up in a rather harsh tone, “SURELY YOU DON’T CONSIDER YOUR WIFE LIVESTOCK?”
“That’s what I was going to ask,” quipped one of the pharmacists. I quickly tried to defend myself by saying that all I meant was that I had given lots of shots to livestock and it wasn’t like I didn’t know how to handle a syringe and needle and vial of medicine.
My stumbling, mumbling and trying to retrieve my size 11 boot from my mouth didn’t seem to ease the tension one bit as these women had me cornered and were giving me their undivided attention over their concern for my wife’s welfare.
I finally managed to convince them that I really did not consider my wife to be livestock and that I would take every necessary precaution when giving those shots to the stomach. I slipped away quietly looking back over my shoulder only once to see if they were still talkin’ about me.
That evening I asked little Miss Martha if she was ready to get her shot over with. She was.
“Now, you remember everything the nurse showed you about how to do this don’t you?” she nervously asked.
“Yep, didn’t forget a thing. I know what I’m doin’. This ain’t gonna hurt a bit, just lay back and relax and I’ll be through in a second and you won’t feel a thing,” I generously offered.
“Ooopppss!” I mumbled to myself.
“You forgot to take the big needle off the syringe and replace it with the small needle after you filled it, didn’t you?” Martha quickly asked.
“Yeah, I did, I almost stuck that big needle right in yer little tummy there, BUT I REMEMBERED, I ain’t gonna hurt ya!” I replaced the large needle with a much smaller one and gave her the shot as easily as I could. She said it didn’t hurt too much!
Gentle readers, I only have to do this three more times and I really don’t like the responsibility of having to do it. Martha says there ain’t no way she can stick that needle in her own stomach and give herself the dose. Of course, I have doctored lots and lots of livestock in my time and I guess that qualifies me to give the injections unless she would rather have the UPS man or the propane guy give her the shots. Probably not!
Let me say in closing, THANKS so much for all the cards, letters and calls that we have received. You have lifted our spirits considerably. I most likely won’t have time to respond to all of you so I’ll just do it here in this offering.
Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and guys, whatever ya do, don’t use women and livestock in the same sentence, ever! C. ya.
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