CALIFORNIA SHORE SHELLED. This was our morning headline. Can it be true?
The Santo Tomas trots or acute gastro-enteritis caught up with me, and I had to leave my work at the hospital.
By afternoon I managed to stand in the food line for my plate of stew, which was pretty rough fare for me. In the evening I spent an hour on my weekly detail of “Miss Issue-Tissue.” I was grateful that I could sit in a chair as I doled out three squares to a customer.
Laura, our poetic roommate, was still at the hospital, sick with bacillary, and when I went off duty today, she gave me the following poem:
For bedpans we all had a yen —
Some claimed eight, and others ten,
And even twelve or fifteen when
We werent as we should have been.
Among visitors we had men
Which never stopped us when
We needed bedpans brought again
And by heck, we used them then.
We swatted flies, and slept, and then
We swore that if and where and when
We ever got back home again
Wed never have another yen.