Zombie Pustules From Outer Space

There are a lot of rules that are important to one’s medical health.  One is: Don’t have a medical emergency on Easter Sunday.  The other is: If you have to have a medical emergency on Easter Sunday,  don’t talk about “Mafia Wives.”  My friend Joyce broke both of those rules.  The day went like this:

Arrival of Home Health Care Nurse.  Joyce shows her a strange set of red bumps near the incision that bears a striking resemblance to the aliens in the 1962 hit, “Zombie Pustules From Outer Space.”

Joyce to Nurse: What do you think this is?

Nurse: Oh dear god.  It’s like that old movie.  Pustule Something.

Renee: “Zombie Pustules From Outer Space.”

Nurse: Yeah.  Better go to Urgent Care.

 Joyce, Jean (our friend and driver) and I spend Easter Sunday at Urgent Care.  (Urgent Care Easter motto:   “We are all pissed off to be here.  Don’t talk to us unless you are dressed like an Easter Bunny and have chocolate.”)

Joyce enters with a completely bandaged arm in a sling.  She is  resting the arm on a big pillow that she carries with her in her other hand. The receptionist asks her what her problem is.   We then go in to see the nurse.  The nurse also asks her what the problem is.  Nobody has noticed the bandaged arm, sling, or pillow.

We wait for the doctor. In an attempt to divert Joyce’s attention from her arm, Jean tells us about the episode of “Mafia Wives” she saw the other evening.  Joyce makes a derogatory remark about the show.  Jean takes offense.  She defends the show for its sociological merits.  Joyce makes another sarcastic remark, this time about people who think TV crap has any sociological value.  Jean accuses Joyce of watching “stupid TV crime shows.”   Joyce defends her TV viewing choices.  The doctor arrives.  He is ignored. Jean lists the shows Joyce watches. The doctor tries to look at Joyce’s arm. She inadvertently swats him away in her attempt to explain that “‘The Mentalist’ is a f-ing Masterpiece Theater” compared to ‘Mafia Wives.'”

Eventually the doctor is able to regain control by calling in two burly nurses. He unwraps Joyce’s dressing and takes a look.  The nurses pass out.  The doctor says “This is disgusting, like some kind of horror movie thing.”

Renee: (peeking out from under the exam table, where I have taken refuge) “Zombie Pustules From Outer Space.”

Doctor: Exactly.

Joyce is now salved and bandaged to within an inch of her life. I think that’s to protect the general population from seeing what’s underneath. It doesn’t bother me at all. Given a choice, I’d be more inclined to open my front door to a bunch of Zombie Pustules From Outer Space than to a bunch of Mafia Wives.