The ABO Man.

ROLCAM · Posted: Wed Oct 10, 2007 1:27 pm Post subject: The ABO Man.

The ABO Man
By,
Roger Dean Kiser

“Is there any way I can get a cup of coffee with sugar?” asked the homeless man who was sitting in the hospitals waiting room.

Still half asleep and just coming in to work at Phoebe Putney Memorial Hospital in Albany, Georgia, I waved my hand back and forth, as if to tell him to not bother me.

Entering the emergency room, I noticed Doctor McCall as he ran behind one of the many drawn blue curtains. Several nurses followed close behind.

“What’s the deal?” I asked the nurse sitting behind the nurse’s station.

“Car accident victim, I think,” she replied.

I walked over to the curtain and slowly peeked inside.

That’s bad, I thought, as I saw an older woman laying on an ambulance gurney, her right leg bent backwards beneath her body.

“Kiser, you wait out front and watch for Mr. Champney. He is flying in from Atlanta and should be here in about 30 minutes,” said the head nurse, as she quickly pointed her finger toward the front of the hospital.

Walking toward the entrance I once again had to venture through the emergency waiting room.

“Is there any way I can get a cup of coffee with lots of sugar?” asked the dingy fellow again.

Walking into the hospital gift shop, I poured a hot cup of coffee and dumped in about a half pound of sugar. Waiting for the gentleman to arrive, I constantly watched though the large glass window as I walked back to the waiting room and handed the coffee to the man.

We knew Jeffrey; he constantly visited the hospital emergency room several times a week with one ailment or another. Just the week before he had a rectal itching problem, so we gave him a four pack of suppositories. Several hours later he returned and told us that his problem had not been relieved. When the nurse asked him if he used one of the suppositories, he replied “I used two of ‘em but they sure tasted waxy.”

It took everything Doctor McCall could do to keep from laughing.

I stood outside for more than an hour waiting for the gentleman to arrive. All at once a black Cadillac raced into the driveway and came to a screeching halt. A well dressed man opened the back door of the car and headed toward me.

“Champney here! Where is my wife?” shouted the large man, in a very authoritative voice.

As he pushed everyone to the side, I tried to explain that she was in the emergency room when I last saw her. As we reached the emergency room door, I carefully reached up and placed my hand on his arm.

“”You wait here and I’ll see what’s happening. No one is allowed inside, except hospital personnel.”

All at once, the man push me, causing me to fall against the wall.

“HEY!” I yelled. “You can’t go in there.”

The gentleman stopped, gave me a very stern look and pointed his finger at my nose.

Backing up from his large finger in my face, I pointed to the seating area and said, “You sit down over there and I’ll see where your wife is so you can see her.”

Slowly, the man turned and began walking away.

YOU STINK LIKE HELL,” he screamed at Jeffery, as he quickly moved away.

Jeffery smiled, reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out the two remaining suppositories and said to the man, “Would you like a candy?”

I smiled and walk into the emergency room.

Several minutes later, I walked back to the waiting room and began to explain to Mr. Champney that the doctor was having a very difficult time finding blood. His wife had a very unusual blood type.

“I know, she has an ABO blood type. Don’t you fellows have any?” he asked, shaking his hands furiously in front of him.

“Excuse me,” said Jeffery as he interrupted our conversation.

“WILL YOU SHUT UP!” screamed Champney, as he pointed directly at Jeffery.

Slowly closing his mouth and looking down at the floor, Jeffrey moved backwards and took his seat in the corner of the room.

The next thing I knew Doctor McCall’s hand was resting on my shoulder.

“Roger, let me have a minute here,” he told me.

I walked several paces away and stopped. He explained to Mr. Champney that his wife was in need of blood and that none was available. The nearest ABO blood he was able to locate was in Jacksonville, Florida and it would take several hours for it to arrive.

“Can I have some more coffee with sugar?” Jeffery asked me.

I walked over, took his cup and turned to walk away.

“I have ABO blood in my veins,” he mumbled.

I winked at him, jokingly, then walked away to go get his coffee.

Upon returning, I saw Mr. Champney bent over with his head and arms resting on the water fountain. Saying not a word, I walked over to Jeffrey and handed him his coffee.

“Really, I have ABO blood,” he replied once again.

Still saying nothing, I walked back into the emergency room and over to Doctor McCall.

“What are we going to do?” I asked him.

“Need that blood and we need it quick,” he replied.

“Doc, that leg looked pretty bad when I saw it,” I voiced.

“That leg is going to be okay. The surgeon is on his way. It’s the blood loss that I’m concerned about.”

“This may be nothing but that Jeffery fellow says he has an ABO blood type.”

Doctor McCall, with a strange look on his face, turned and walked toward the waiting room. Within seconds he had Jeffery by the arm and was walking him into the ER. The laboratory technician was summoned and performed several blood tests on Jeffery. Sure enough, it was found that dirty, old homeless Jeffery had a very rare blood type classified as ABO.

I immediately walked back to the waiting room and told Mr. Champney of the news. Doctor McCall and Jeffery were walking out of the ER when Champney yelled, “I’ll buy all the blood you will sell me.”

“My bloods not for sale,” Jeffery told him in a very firm voice.

Champney’s eyes immediately enlarged to the size of golf balls and he stood there speechless.

I watched as McCall and Jeffery disappeared down the long hallway towards the Pennington Ambulance section.

“You wait here and I’ll have a talk with him,” I told Champney.

I walked into the gift shop and poured myself a cup of coffee and headed down the hallway to find Doctor McCall. After searching for about ten minutes, I located both of them in the doctor’s lounge. Jeffery was in the shower, covered from head to toe with surgical soap and doctor McCall was scrubbing him with what appeared to be a large toilet brush.

I stood there looking at Jeffery’s dirty, skinny, naked body, his ribs almost protruding threw his sides, wondering the entire time how such a body could have something, almost as valuable as gold, flowing through his veins.

“Are you going to let that woman die?” I asked him.

“Well of course not.”

“But you said your blood was not for sale.”

“It’s not for sale,” he replied.

Doctor McCall smiled at me and then patted Jeffery on the back several times. Soap splattered everywhere.

Within the hour, the surgeon had arrived and the woman and Jeffery were taken into surgery.

Several hours later, Jeffery was once again sitting in the waiting room, along with Mr. Champney. Both were laughing and drinking coffee together.

Later that afternoon Junior, Wilbur and I took Mrs. Champney by ambulance to the airport and loaded her onto a private plane. I was standing on the runway smoking a cigarette when I saw the black Cadillac drive out onto the tarmac. As the door opened I watched as Mr. Champney and Jeffery emerged from the vehicle. I smiled as I looked at Jeffery. It was the first time I had ever seen him clean and all dressed up.

“Look at me,” said Jeffery, with tears in his eyes.

“The tie looks good Mr. Jeffery,” I said, nodding my head forward.

“Would you like a candy?” he asked me, as he reached toward his shirt pocket.

“No thank you, sir,” I said, with a smile.

_________________
Roland Camilleri

Moderator

Sydney , Australia.