ads without products

number two

with 5 comments

Ah, well she’s here and everyone’s healthy. Some things went smoothly and others distinctly didn’t, which amounted to a stressful series of days (when did all this start? Monday…. And now it’s Friday night, and only now we’re all home…), the sort of days that take months off the end of your life, but now it’s done.

My now-less-limited experience of the NHS suggests that it kicks the living shit out of what you’re provisioned, even with good insurance, back home. Efficiency, rationing, and triage are one thing, but profit has no place in the realm of healing and birthing. (It’s not really me, and it might sound a bit dunno, but I’m actually thinking about launching a wee malpractice suit against a certain hospital in Brooklyn. Pretty angry, I am. It’s not nice to hear about the clear evidence of past medical miscues – miscues that are retrospectively obvious now –  from an NHS surgeon as your wife’s dripping pints of blood off of an operating table, a few hours after delivery… But the truth of the matter is, and all of you Americans have seen this, that there are so many disincentives for medical practitioners in the US to go looking for possible problems – paperwork, won’t get to go on the next Blue Cross sponsored golf weekend in Hilton Head, better money in one thing rather than another – that it’s a wonder anything is ever caught and fixed at all…)

Anyway, today, back from home with a car seat (which we didn’t end up using, the taxi driver was non-plussed by the idea of installing it) and riding the elevator up to the room, someone who was a grandmother saw what I was carrying and said, Ah, lucky. You’re taking yours home today. I’m not. Mine’s in the ICU. Mine’s three months early. But mine’s a fighter.

That’s the thing about cliched speech, speech that traffics in what they’d say if they were saying this not in real life but on television, bad television. But mine’s a fighter. I won’t say what the thing is, but I’m guessing you know. I had nothing to say back so I said, Good luck, good luck, I’m sure it’ll all be fine. And then she left the lift, a floor before mine. It was straight out of a handbook for writing the scene, she was straight out of central casting, and so was I. Wonder how it’ll end for her and hers.

I’ll be getting to the accrued comments over the next few days. Jinxing myself a bit, but Christ is it easier the second time around. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Sorry for a rough, self-centered post – had to do this one, on to other things soon, perhaps in minutes.

Written by adswithoutproducts

April 24, 2009 at 10:21 pm

Posted in me

5 Responses

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  1. Congratulations! (And I’m sure I won’t be the only one to begrudge you one rough, self-centered post.)


    April 24, 2009 at 10:41 pm

  2. Thanks, SEK!


    April 24, 2009 at 11:14 pm

  3. Yes, congratulations, and

    profit has no place in the realm of healing and birthing.

    …amen to that. New Zealand has just been kindly informed by the OECD that the provision of health care is “its major problem”. Here was me thinking it was the one thing we were doing quite well, especially in the area of birthing. And naturally they suggest we solve this problem by “introducing more competition”.


    April 25, 2009 at 1:50 am

  4. [And now the concluding part of “Father & Child: The TV Series”:]

    Child: Hey dad, you’re back from the mall! What did you get me?

    Father: I got you nothin’. At the entrance this clever-lookin’ guy was handin’ out leaflets for this new organisation, Dads Without Products. Really made me think about stuff. It says here that this whole consumerism thing is a totalitarian ideology that conditions people from birth to be mindless zombies who can’t think critically ’bout society or nothin’.

    Child (crying): Not buying me stuff is a violation of my fundamental human rights.

    Wife: Now look what you’ve done. I’m phonin’ the FBI!

    [Cue outro music, sponsored by Suck-It-Up Vacuum Cleaners, “The suckiest products in town…..”]


    April 25, 2009 at 4:15 am

  5. Thanks Giovanni!

    And, whoof, David was the last one ever better!


    April 26, 2009 at 9:09 pm

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