All is forgiven

The Jesus Dude and I had a quick chat this evening.
I explained how sorry I was for having a laugh at Stephen from Christian Voice, that I would not do it again, that I valued my nads far too much.
He was really cool about it. Told me to chill, that it had just been a coincidence. That Stephen was a clown and that I should stop giving him more attention than he deserved. That He certainly didn't listen to him and his anger management problems.
So all was cool, he is a really laid back guy, Jesus, all friendly and forgiving and kind.

As long as you remain still and know that He is God.

Life in St Michael's ward has already turned into a well practiced routine: plugging in of I.V. antibiotics, meals, squeezy-blood-pressure-squeeze-machine, tea cart, oral medicines, snoozes, plugging out of I.V. antibiotics, quiet drooling by James (we never got intimate enough so that I could call him Jim), quiet listening of classical CDs on his discman discperson by Philip, quiet reading of the Irish Times by John-the-Quiet. Oh, and freaking out episodes at regular intervals by John-the-Screamer.
- John-the-Screamer: the pain! the pain! the pain! o Jeezus, the pain, JEEZUS!!!, the PAIN!, nurse! nurse! NURSE! the pain! THE PAIN!!!
- Nice Scottish Nurse with the Patience and Calm of a Stoned Angel: But... but... John, it's just the squeezy-blood- pressure-squeeze machine
- J-t-S: Argh! IT HURTS! It's too tight. The pain! The pain! The PAIN!!!

My only window on the outside world is through the little netbook that Mrs Raheny had brought over the previous day.
The wicked witch from admin had categorically refused to grant me access to the Guest Network that was picked up by the wifi and that required a User Name and Password. She looks like on of those dragons who is convinced that the internet is only used for filth and buying dodgy stuff off eBay. I tried to explain that it would be good for patient morale, that it would help to keep a connection with the "outside world" and that it was not to pull my wire. That I already had loads of wires to pull but that they were connected to precious pouches of liquid antibiotics.
She then used the ultimate argument, the one that brings any debate about patient morale to an abrupt end: it would interfere with the equipment.
I retreated immediately, fearful as I was to break the squeezy-blood- pressure-squeeze machine at the mere mention of the word "internet".
The head nurse, who is a good nurse, and who believes in patient welfare took me aside and told me that "your one is a hopeless bitch" and she called the guys from IT who gave her a code.
She was writing it down for me and asking if I could read it, because it is case sensitive, just as Nana called me on my mobile. She's a bit like Fr. Ted when he calls his friend Larry Duff.
She had left by the time the call from Nana was over (Head Nurses tend to be busy) and I was left with several possible combinations, given the worrying similarities between her Zs and 2s, os and 0s, 1s and is.
I got booted out of the network after 3 wrongs attempts. I cursed. A lot. I was still cursing when I realised 15 minutes later than I could give it another go. The network had not blackmailed Guest2321 for ever but for 15 minutes. I got it wrong another 3 times. I curse for another 15 minutes.
I got it right on the 8th attempt.