It really is true, as my dad remarked earlier today, that if you aren't careful, hospitals can kill you. I've been pretty blown away by the overall lack of care my grandmother has received: the other day she was in so much pain her teeth were chattering, yet it took her "team" of nurses an hour of tripping over red tape and each other to get her a heavy duty painkiller. This is made even more remarkable by the fact that Grandma is at the Founder's Suites at the Cleveland Clinic---essentially the VIP rooms. The Clinic is held in universally high esteem, and if this is the level of care the "important" patients receive (a notion I have major problems with in and of itself) it is really a sad statement. Another sad statement: while leaving the Clinic yesterday a nurse in the elevator commented to my mom that she must be excited to be taking me home. I know I'm pale, but I didn't realize I had a deathly pallor!!
On a more lighthearted note, LeBron James is building a 35,000 sq. ft. house that features a bowling alley, two-story closet and a barber shop. Oh, and a limestone bas-relief sculpture of his head. I wonder if he sprung for Cedric the Entertainer.