The ice cream took effect the minute we entered the hospital. Ignoring the odd looks, we led a jumping, hopping, running HB out of an ancient parking garage, up an elevator, through a breezeway over the street, into a long corridor, up another elevator, and down a long, severe hallway.
Like airlines, hospitals have those personnel for whom the environment is regular, stable, and expected. One of them declined taking the elevator with us after glancing sidelong at HB. Most of these people are meant to comfort and instruct those persons for whom the environment is foreign, difficult, or frightening.
I struggle with hospital visitations. I don’t really know what the etiquette is. I can count on one hand the times I have been to a hospital, one of which I stayed for a week when HB was born.
I fly frequently, usually solo, and have an airport routine, despite my general loathing of such predictability.
Prepare for departure
Today, after crisscrossing Clemson Road looking for temporary housing, we made good on the ice cream promise and then took HB to Providence heart center to see Grandaddy.
As we visited with Mr. Charles the flight attendants arrived to check his blood sugar.
