Bill

I got a knock on the door of my apartment about 6:30 tonight. The nightman who is 'the company' presence all night, wanted to know if I could drive Bill to the hospital: "I can't get a cab to come here--they're all busy or something, but I haven't been able to get one."

I said "Of course" and started out the door. The nightman was sort of taken aback by the immediacy of my response. "Of course, if Bill has to get to the hospital, we go."

The nightman told me that Bil's temperture was 102.

Bill was waiting up in the front lobby sitting in a seat. Bill is 90 something and blind since his early adult years. Now, his hearing is going bad. He can hear but barely, everything has to be repeated and even then, sometimes not. I got him into the van and off for the hospital we went.

A few blocks from the New Pointe, he asked "What is the name of this cab company?" I told him that I was his normal driver and not a cab at all. "This one is on the house," I said.

We got up to the hospital and finally, a nurse got a hold of him and took him into an examing cubicle. Forget about the medical privacy act; Bill was telling the nurse that he was "93 years old, blind and I have a temperture of 102--what more do you need to know?"