In situations of uncertainty, it's amazing how there are still little pockets of humour to be found. My father-in-law is in hospital at the moment and I wish him a speedy recovery. I am spending a little bit of time ferrying my wife to and from the hospital and, occasionally, normally two to three times a week, I drop in and say hello to the patient.
Last week, while sitting by the bedside of my father-in-law, I noticed on the wipe-clean board next to the bed of another patient, the name of a Doctor Beatt. Surely not! I thought Doctor Beatt was a fictional character to be found only in the lyrics of a funky song by the Miami Sound Machine. Who could forget, "Emergency, paging Doctor Beat..."? "Doc, Doc, Doc, Doc, Doctor Beat".
Anyway, to cut along story short it made me laugh. And then I got to thinking how much fun one could have working at the hospital (May Day in Croydon) knowing that the hospital employed a Dr Beatt. I don't know about you, but if I was in charge of the Tannoy and Dr Beatt ever needed paging, well, "Emergency! Paging Dr Beatt...". I think I would even go as far as recording an American ambulance siren to accompany any messages sent to the good Doctor.
While I was in the hospital, nobody did page Doctor Beatt as I would imagine there would be plenty of smirks from both staff and patients of a certain age: those who were around when the Miami Sound Machine had its hit in the charts way back when.
On the drive home from the hospital, however, I began thinking, hold on, Doctor Beatt's name had been scrawled on one of those wipe-clean boards using a marker pen and I reckon somebody accidentally wiped off the Y of Beatty. Somehow, "Emergency! Paging Dr. Beatty" doesn't have the same ring and nor does, "Doc, Doc, Doc, Doc, Doctor Beatty". Still it was good while it lasted.