Pain?

In a book I read years ago, "Shibumi" by Trevanian, one of the central characters takes a fall from a cliff and is dying from the injuries. The book's hero rappels down to him, approaches and says, "pain?" The man responds, "no thanks, I have enough." Now THAT is a good line. I vowed to use it.

My first opportunity presented itself last week. I was adrift in a post surgical altered state wandering in and out of beautiful dreams when an efermera, a nurse, appeared at my bedside clad in what used to be traditional nurse apparel - and damn who let them get away from that? - to change out the sack that was dripping expensive and hopefully useful drugs into the back of my left hand. The last act in the process is to verify that the drip is functioning at maximum capacity, which is to say, just short of painful. This is done by going past the border and actually into painful and then backing off just a touch. Some of the nurses, or at least it seemed so to me, appeared to enjoy this part. "Take that you steenking rich gringo here to steal our country" was the barely visible message - I mean you had to look hard for it - hidden behind their otherwise soft and in most cases beautiful brown eyes. I was, of course, feverish. On this occasion, when my hand burst into flames and I was drawn back to real life by the pain and the sound of my own scratchy voiced - I had been intubated - stream of invective coalesced into the all encompassing word "yikes!", I was rewarded by my angel of mercy and sent from heaven straight man in the clever disguise of a nurse saying, "duele?"

Here was my chance. Thirty years I had waited. I would not blow it. I carefully summoned the Spanish words, sought meaningful eye contact and delivered the line that surely anyone, anywhere would find funny, "No gracias, tengo basta" I said. I knew it would take a second, there is a subtlety to the joke, and I relaxed, smiling inside, waiting for the laughter or at least the chuckle that would follow. I waited... and I waited.

She didn't get it. I mean, SHE DIDN'T GET IT! How could this be? I was momentarily nonplussed, which, for those of you unfamiliar with the word, means I was completely at a loss for plusses, but I recovered quickly. Hey, that's just the night shift,I thought. You know, the zombies that slip around in the hospital after dark with syringes and plastic shot glasses with one pill in them.(And isn't that disappointing?) They gotta be brain dead to do their job. I still have the pain, the joke and a whole new audience arriving in the morning. There's no way I won't get a laugh tomorrow.

I fell quickly back into Dreamland. Sunrise was only a few hours away.