I have a wheelchair bound tutor who falls asleep during class. He’s overweight and diabetic. He checks his blood sugar level daily. At first I thought maybe he wasn’t a morning person, so I cut his hours. “Mr. Hartwig,” I said, “I’m going to schedule you for the afternoons only.”
With an understanding of why I made the decision, he explained his health issues. So now he only sleeps in the afternoon classes. His aide wheels him to his designated spot where he can prop up his right leg and rest his body undisturbed. Before the aide leaves, he says, “Here’s your tutor.” His way of announcing—Look, he didn’t die on my watch.
I keep a CPR mask inside my desk drawer. I watch Mr. Hartwig’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall.
There’s this new student in my class—Mr. Patterson. He has this shtick where he makes this grand entrance. “Hello Teach! How are you today?!” He’s loud and abrasive. He wants to make sure everyone witnesses his genuine, caring attitude toward his teacher. He wants everyone to hear him. He’s waaay too loud. He wakes Mr. Hartwig from his peaceful slumber. That’s his intent. He says to Mr. Hartwig, “What? They haven’t removed your leg yet?”
The classroom fills with laughter. Mr. Hartwig himself chuckles. I wonder: How long will this continue? How long before they amputate? How long before he dies? How long before I can retire?
14 comments:
As long as it takes is the answer to all three questions JR.
Geeze man. That's not an experience I want to have every day.
JR-that's some pretty dark humor, unfortunatly, I too, would have laughed. I was just to easy. Tell the loud mouth to enter your class quietly and respectfully next time!
Loud...abrasive...wants to be the center of attention? Mr. Patterson should start a blog. Hee hee. I do feel sorry for Mr. Hartwig, though he would be hard to take.
They can be cold. I will never forget the one legged inmate. They nicknamed him "kick stand."
Enjoyed the read. MW
Ahhh, the good old days. Let me know when one of your guys comes to class with the working end of a spoon in a place that should be marked exit only. Good old five block, the looney bin. Thank God for short pencils. It made for good stories.
Dark humor. I would not have laughed. To know that you have to lose a limb and have the world laughing about it is like sprinkling salt on a wound
Mona, Salt doesn't hurt on a phantom wound.
WW, You've inspired me! I'll have to share the latest crazy-stories from five block. And I'm not talking about sippy-straw-catheters! Too mild, waaaay too mild! I'll bet you're glad to be away from all the loons.
I hope you never have to use that CPR mask...
oh oh! My bad! I did not know he was dead.
What is a CPR mask?
Mona, once the limb is removed Mr. Hartwig will feel every ache and pain connected to that missing limb -- thus phantom wound. He is very much alive today.
A CPR mask (otherwise known as a fag-bag in prison) is used to seal the mouth before performing lifesaving measures. It also has a one-way valve so that you don't get vomit coming your way while providing oxygen.
My late husband suffered from diabetes and ppl used to talk tactlessly about his future with severed and hacked limbs. That used to be hurtful to hear and imagine.
Thank god, he did not have those related symptoms till the end. No dialysis either...
the CPR bag sounds useful. We do not have such a thing in India. Or perhaps maybe I am not aware if we do...
Mona, I guess that kind of cruel talk goes on everywhere ... not just in prison. Sorry to hear about your late husband.
To avoid confusion, it's called a CPR mask, not bag (just anoter cruel prison term used in a rhyme).
Don't want to sound pithy, but we haver three characters here. And each somehow crippled, in his own way.
Three characters in search of an author?
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