In the waiting room, Ann shares with Darin and Jessica the story of her and Fred’s courtship. Batiuk tries to lighten the grim tone of this arc by having his dumb blonde character misconstrue the kind of “strike” Ann is talking about. Because she’s such a romantic naïf, Jess actually seems taken aback at the thought that teachers would actually go on strike. Anyway, when is a strike (in the work stoppage sense) ever “unexpected”?
Tag: hospital
Something Depressing This Way Comes
I didn’t get to see today’s strip ahead of time, and I really don’t have much to add to the excellent comments that have already posted. I will say that despite their ineptitude (administering tPA before a CT scan, for example), the staff at Westview Memorial work very quickly indeed. Fred came in less than an hour ago, and already he’s been seen by a neurosurgeon.
It's Just Aphasia Goin' Through
Withering Heights
January 18, 2013 at 5:00 pm
…[H]ospital treatment is nothing like day-to-day business at, say, a pizza joint. Things do not happen on the patient’s schedule, and there is much less certainty than, “Hey, I thought I said no anchovies!” So Batominc actually has the patient’s and the family’s point of view down.
And I guess that’s what’s happening today, as the neurosurgeon updates Ann and Darin on Fred’s status. Barring any glaring errors such as Pmc commented on yesterday, the surgeon’s summary to me sounds fairly straightforward and jargon-free. Certainly, a former high school teacher would be able to make sense of it. We’ll give Ann a break since she’s obviously under stress.
“So there’s going to be some residual aphasia,” says the doctor with complete certainty, prognosticating before his patient has even regained consciousness. Apologies to the three of you readers who picked “Survives, eventually makes full recovery” in this week’s poll. The Wikipedia defines aphasia as “the disturbance in formulation and comprehension of language.” Which equals, you guessed it: “Boxcar!” Pure comedy gold. Can’t wait for a frustrated Darin to yell at Ann, “Is he crazy?”
I am Fred's Brain
Darin, buddy, I think the blue pen in your pocket is leaking.
It’s a stroke, all right. Poor Fred. Yet all I can think about is: what’s going on with the lady doctor’s chin? I call it a “chin” because it’s where her chin would be, but it looks more like a small goiter. It sticks out like one of Popeye’s elbows. And her bedside manner sucks: “If he’s lucky, the catheter…will break it up.” “If we’re lucky” would’ve sounded a tad more compassionate, but of course, that doesn’t set up Annie’s punchline. Look for more scenes in this arc to take place in the darkened x-ray room; this way the action takes place in a featureless void, and TB is saved the drudgery of having to draw a detailed background.
Freddy Got Fingered
C’mon, doc. If he’s wise to that “scream when the toilet seat falls” bit, do you really think Fred Fairgood is gonna fall for the old “pull my finger” routine?
At least TB gets all the hospital details right: that’s either a nurse wearing a ḥijāb, or else Igor has wandered in from the lab of Dr. “Froderick” Frankenstein.
Son of Stuck Funky 