My Friend, "Speedy"

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My Friend, "Speedy" - One of the several jobs I was lucky to have during my working days was as a techie doing mobile medical X-Ray exams in nursing homes and eldercare living centers. Probably half of the places I visited passed my "smell test." That test was simple enough. If you opened the entry door and stepped inside, if the home smelled OK, it was a good and proper facility. If the odor was obnoxious, the place was not fit to house either man or beast. No matter whether or not the facility passed or failed that smell test, the residents were much the same from place to place. Most were quite elderly. Some were happy. Some were sad. Most wished that they could be somewhere else. Virtually all of them were fun to deal with, to work with, and to converse with. There was one old gal who became somewhat of a favorite. Both of her legs had been amputated some time ago, and those missing legs were the reason for her being in the nursing home. Most of the time she would zip up and down the hallway in her manually-propelled wheelchair at plain lickety-split top speed So I gave her a special name - "Speedy." I arrived at the nursing home one afternoon, and there came Speedy, top speed right in front of me. "Howdy Speedy. Everything going good for you today? And what have you been up to lately?" "Hi, Gus. I was entered into the wheelchair race at this year's Senior Olympics." "Did you win the race, Speedy?" "Nope." "Tell me, Speedy, are you going to enter the wheelchair race next year?" "Gus...Are you kidding?" They took my legs, not my brain." "By the way, Speedy, I stopped by Church's Fried Chicken on my way over here and bought a box of chicken legs and biscuits for you. Here you go..." With the box of chicken legs quickly in place on her lap, Speedy was off at high speed down the hallway on her wheelchair - heading for her room to eat that fried chicken and biscuits before any of the other residents learned that she had a box of them in hand. * * * * * * * * * * Image source: Pixabay.com * * * * * * * * * *