Tobe Frank: Keeping a bedside vigil in the hospital

To be frank, every day on the pench is a Sunday.   And for that I am eternally thankful…Christ knows (sorry Lord) I need it…I mean it’s great that I can seek the Lord’s forgiveness at mass every single, god-forsaken day of the week (Jesus Christ there I go again, oh shit sorry, sorry).  I do after all have a lot to be sorry for (or is that a lot to seek forgiveness for?)…is there a difference?   
I remember my father, an atheist, would say to me, “you Catholics have it good.  You can lie, cheat, plunder, beg, borrow and all sorts of other nasty’s, and simply go to mass, ask for forgiveness and batta-bing batta-boom, a few Hail Mary’s and an Our Father later you’re forgiven and free can do it all again…what a deal”.


It was either that or the fact that at every school committee meeting there was always a slab of beer…but I digress.


Anyway, I can’t go to church this particular Sunday as I am maintaining a bedside vigil at the hospital in anticipation of my Mastercard waking up from an induced coma as a result of my missus’ recent redecorating efforts.  Anyone would think the Queen’s coming over for tea and scones.  Fair dinkum, we’d only just finished the downsizing effort and here she is replenishing the supply of the same useless shit we’d just offloaded on the kids!

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I’d spent the night sleeping in the hospital room’s recliner, wanting to be there when it woke from its stupor to reassure it that it will not happen again (at least not until Christmas or the grandchildren’s birthdays).


I’d sent the missus to church in my absence, part to ensure she came back with my daily allocation of forgiveness prayers and part because I am trying to keep her away from the hospital.  The last thing I want is the Mastercard waking up to missus pronouncing, “Who’s your Momma, WHO IS YOUR MOMMA!”.


Snowflakes chance in hell I’ll let this happen again…sorry Lord, I’ll be back at church in the morning…but until then, please Lord, give me the strength to not put the scissors through my Mastercard when she awakes!  I don’t think I have enough Hail Mary’s in me for murder!