Hospital Nuttiness

While in recovery, a photography firm that works with the hospital tried to sell us their services. They were working with the hospital, they were allowed personal and direct access to the room and patients. It’s must be a good business. Those announcement cards cost money. And especially with a first child, you naturally want to treasure every moment.

For some reason we were given a form. The form must be filled out, with the appropriate section completed to accept or refuse the photography. Yes, we had to fill out paperwork to refuse an upsell. We even had to have a witness! We didn’t need a witness to cover what happened if the epidural paralyzed Mrs. Muttrox for life, but we did for this. I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t signed anything. Would we have been stuck at the hospital, never to leave the grounds, a new century’s Charlie on the MTA? Would photographers have snuck up on us in the hall, sneaking shots like papparazzi and then charging us $200 for them?

They took our answer of no graciously, and left two copies of the form. Why do I need copies of this form? I will file it under “D”. For donut.

In unrelated nuttiness, one of the nurses was named Joyce DeWitt. No relation I assume.
Joyce DeWitt

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