zounds

The panoramic view was from one of the 6th floor treatment rooms of my dermatologist – where I was waiting for her to remove stitches from a previous minor surgery. You might say that she is a real cut-up and just keeps me in stitches – for about 10 days this time.

Off to the right from my window view is the large complex of the Medical College of Georgia. Just saying it is large doesn’t do it justice or really explain – but it seems much bigger than large – maybe even extensive.

It’s a misty morning and billowy clouds of condensation are rising from the massive MCG air conditioning units. It was almost like there was a place on the far side of the buildings that was breathing in the clean, healthy air and these clouds were the exhaling of the bad, germ-filled stuff. One would like to think this could be the case – but sometimes the opposite is true and a person can catch some very specialized, aggressive and unhealthy germs that only grow in hospitals.

To the left of my view is the University Hospital – somewhat large but not as imposing as the aforementioned instructional institution. This was the top and some of the side view of University – the part not normally seen – with it’s piping, large air conditioners and flat tar and gravel roof.

To the near right is the top view of doctor’s offices with their associated parking areas. These areas are outlined by trees planted just for the purpose of outlining these areas. This scene has been viewed by me many times over the years and I remember these trees when they were young. I may have even known their parents; their last name is oak.

A tower construction crane dominates the far center of this view. This device is involved in the erection of an office building – presently up to about the fourth floor. One would assume that this building would be a part of the MCG complex since it adjoins that area. Being a crane operator must be a very up-lifting kind of job – but then I guess it would have its let downs as well.

Most everywhere are the signs of daily commerce as well as doctors and patients going to and fro – by car and on foot. My curiosity was somewhat piqued as to which were the “tos” and which the “fros” – hopefully they all knew which of these they were.

Directly below me is the paved passageway between two buildings with some parking spaces. The natural things – God’s creations – growing in an area are usually the first things I look for and in this case it was several trees growing in the median between the pavement and sidewalk.

All the trees were mostly still in full leaf, but two of them caught my attention because both had several limbs right on the top without any leaves. They looked a bit like long bony fingers, hopelessly reaching up and out for help – from someone – in some way. If they had the power of speech, their cry might be – “zounds, our leaves have left and we have nothing wherewithal to be clothed”.

It would appear that zounds has fallen from modern language usage in much the same way the leaves fell from those bare branches. Older exclamatory words such as eureka, avast and even the tiny lo are missing from a language that has become less colorful, more coarse, less intelligible and way beyond offensive.

My mind snapped back into reality and the treatment room by the entrance of my doctor. We conversed briefly and she swiftly and deftly snipped and plucked the stitches from the confines of my skin. In a very few minutes she was through and I departed from the room, leaving the view for someone else. ec