Last Friday, I was all prepared to attend two new shows in town, one at Hooters and the other at Mandalay Bay. But I never made it! No, there was no accident, but a hospital did come into play.
See, I was made a great-grandfather for the fifth time. My granddaughter, Monica, who is the daughter of my youngest, Lisa (I was responsible for the birth of three little girls named Robin, Denise and Lisa), was taken to Summerlin Hospital on Thursday evening, around 5:30 p.m. On Friday (Nov. 13), I got a call from Lisa that Monica was going to have a “C-Section” birth. Well, there was no way I was not going to be there when the baby was born. Of course that’s also the time when the freeways are packed, so I did not get to the hospital until a little after 6 p.m
Now the rest of the story.
I arrived and went to the second floor as instructed by my daughter. I was told the room number and immediately went to the room. It was empty. I looked around, up and down the hall, and saw nary a nurse, etc. Then at the end of the hall I spotted a sign—“C” Section Delivery. So I headed for the room, knowing that Monica was due for the procedure. The door to the delivery room magically opened for me and I walked in, seeing absolutely not a single person (no nurse on duty I guess). I noticed there were two delivery rooms, and one was being used. I squinted between the Venetian blinds and saw my daughter, Lisa, draped in a blue outfit standing inside. There was a lot of things going on. Just then another lady entered the room looking for her daughter. She was immediately followed by a burly female nurse who asked, “How and why are you in this room…You’re not supposed to be here!”
“Well, I came in looking for my daughter and my granddaughter,” I proceeded to tell her. “I kept saying hello, hello…hello” and never got an answer…So I took a look through the window.”
Would you believe this nurse (who must have been a drill sergeant in the Marine Corp) said we—the lady and me—didn’t belong here and we must leave right now. Well, to make a long story short, we both conceded that she just might call in the militia and we agreed to leave. I went to my granddaughter’s room and waited. I would periodically look down the hall towards the delivery room.
And, then it happened. I could see my daughter holding a little bundle in her arms. Lisa looked down the hall at me, held up the bundle and smiled.
Imoni, a baby girl weighing 5 lbs, 11 ounces was born. She had all her toes and fingers and was a beautiful and perfect baby (aren’t they all?). Within 15 minutes the baby and mother were in their room. After the nurse (a great one from North Carolina) finished checking Imoni, I got to hold this wonderful addition to the Johnson clan. My amazing friend, Nancy Barr, said that Imoni is a very exceptional baby—a Cherub. I know that this fantastic bundle of joy is a unique baby too.