October 27, 2021 – Wednesday afternoon
Iron River Hospital

So I've been lying here in bed thinking... just thinking. Other than cough and turn various shades of green, there's nothing else to do. Television really is horrible and if I see one more commercial pleading for me to say Yes to the Dress,I'm going to hurl, literally vomit. No, I'm not kidding. I'm talking major projectile and I mean it. I may even throw a lung or two out at you.

I never write like this. One thing about being on high octane oxygen 24/7 is that other than qualifying one for the NASCAR Circuit, it makes a person a bit loopy. I find I have to work a bit harder to form thoughts and often, I just drift out there into space somewhere. This morning, I was dreaming (hallucinating) that I was melting two corners of an envelop together and once that happened, all the blood clots in my lungs had disappeared. Seems Mississippi Brother Garry had come up with some magical solution to make it all work by using his lathe and it made perfect sense.

Well, anyway, I've been lying here on my side coming up with various theories about oxygen and the proper decorum while using the stuff. Today, I'd like to expand on the Walmart theory, how one ought to present himself if using oxygen while shopping at one of my least favorite stores.

There are a couple of givens about using oxygen while shopping at Walmart. First, it's important one wear a pair of jammies, cleanliness isn't important. In fact, ragged cuffs, dirty socks, and greasy hair are near mandatory. Naturally, a large baggy sweatshirt stained with the past month's dribble of missed mouth culinary opportunities is optimum. Throw in some plastic bling and a person's ready for his up and down the aisle Walmart shopping experience.

When entering Walmart in the oxygen mode, it's very important that one prominently displays his green canister. Nothing else is important. It's all about how it looks, the sympathy card.

Of course, with the user being “disabled,” the canister has to have a medical marijuana sticker plastered to one side. 

There's the all important cart selection. With dirty feet and ragged cuffs, a canister toting driver must have exactly the right cart, preferably one with a bit of trash left in the front basket. Such trash can be pitched onto the floor at the driver's leisure when convenient. Isn't that why there's a floor?

THE CANISTER MUST BE PROMINENTLY DISPLAYED from all angles, preferably head high if not higher. While setting the green tube into place, it's important for the driver to make a scene in an attempt to connect the hose from the bottle to his face. If he's really good, he'll get some hair caught in the plastic connection causing even more attention. It's the stuff Hollywood scripts are made of. Noises, grunting and groaning, are an obvious desperate attempt to beg for help. Occasional flatuation has been known to fly from the driver. That should simply be ignored. Anyone else would excuse themselves, but oxygen carting drivers have an automatic bye. Failing to elicit any offers of help, the soon to be shopper quickly forgets the cart's still connected to the wall and drives away in a huff, extension cord dragging behind.

It's part of the game.

Part Two: Which little old blue haired lady is targeted?

One must realize that there are special due rights and privileges that accompany driving an oxygen filled dirty Walmart electric cart.

1. You NEVER stop to let a more elderly person go in front. It's very important to put them in their place, to remind them that YOU are disabled. If they had your life, they'd understand... or would they?

2. If grocery shopping, be sure to open at least one package along the way. It'll help keep one's strength up. If the selection is not desirable, just throw the rest of the box on the floor. That's why it's there.

3. It's always a good thing to throw in a few kids, yours, your neighbors, any kid will do. The optimum munchkin will be a barefoot, snotty nosed, little urchin, that should appear as if he were just plucked from a half night's sleep. If you can get a minimum of four or five to hang off the cart, even more sympathy can be amassed.

4. Be sure to occasionally correct any misbehaviors with your riders. Yelling such things as: "You shut your mouth or I'll tell your daddy, who's also your uncle and very well may be your grandpa when we git home and he'll lick your hide good. Now go git my cigarettes that fell on the floor."

5. Be prepared to give dirty looks and plenty of them. Some non oxygen'ers think they actually have equal rights to the shopping aisles. You go out there and show them who's boss. After all, you have an official Walmart electric cart complete with a green canister. With that comes special privileges and expectations.

The shopper is on a roll. Little old men and ladies have been shoved to the side. Boxes and totes of goodies are piling into the electric cart. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead! Whoops, don't forget the service aisle. A person never knows when he'll run out of cigarettes.

What's that? 

Out from under the baggy sweatshirt pops a dog, a small one, one that you'd better believe will rip the tip of your pinky finger from your hand. But worry not, it's a service dog... well, it will be just as soon as our driver can find the vest that was pulled from the trash earlier.

And finally, with our shopping experience almost finished, the all important cigarette. No lighting up in the store, that would be too obvious, but as soon as we're in the parking lot, we'll have that oxygen powered mini rocket lit as we drive our treasures through the parking lot to the car.

Out from under the sweatshirt will come the dog, sans service dog vest. If one looks closely, there could be a few other goodies produced from beneath the massive material, some that might have skipped the scanner.

So that's my take on shopping with an oxygen canister at Walmart. I'm not passing judgement, I'm just perusing through years of casual observations. As I said, I never write like this, but it's what traveled through my oxygen clouded mind today.

For the nerd med heads today's updates are rather boring. The oxygen is turned onto maximum and as long as I remain perfectly still, I'm just fine. For whatever reason, I'm plugged back into a line that is carrying antibiotics into my quickly vanishing veins, more of a precautionary move I think than anything.

There's been discussion of using WHO YA GONNA CALL? CLOT BUSTERS! I heard an attending physician might be consulted to have a procedure to actually suck these clots from my lungs at another facility. Until then, I'm just laying low, cooling it.

In all seriousness, thank you for all your well wishes. My email box is full to overflowing and though I don't/can't answer everyone, I lay on my side reading and re reading every single word. I'd love to talk with everyone, but honestly, the mere act of conversation wears me out. Please know I read everything and though I may not know you personally, I am no less appreciative. God bless and thank you.

OK, time to lay my head back down and drift once again into an oxygen induced fantasy. Hmm, maybe I'll go dumpster diving and find a good used pair of filthy PJ's in this next one.

Stay tuned.