The "Naming" of "Things"

"Okay, Ms. Gal, I hear you don't feel well. I think it might be time for a runaway truck ramp . . . "

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NEWSFLASH!

"CG" welcomes readers from 3 new states:
Idaho, Connecticut, Virginia!
Hellooooo!
Only 29 states to go!

On my way home from Road Trip 2009, I saw this:

and indeed, a ramp on the side of the road went up a steep hill with a service station at the top. This got me to thinking . . .

When I was a kid the doctors called going into the hospital with CF a "tune-up" no matter how sick someone was. You could be REALLY REALLY sick like my sister was sometimes, and they would call it "a tune up," or you could be vaguely sort of ? ill ? and hadn't been in the hospital in awhile, and they would call it "a tune up."

I believe this false branding was the very beginning of my anxiety about doctors. I mean, if they were going to go with the whole "car" metaphor, they really should have differentiated, "Well, CGal, you should consider getting an oil change. It will help your sinuses," or "CGal! You need a tow truck now or you're going to lose a lot of blood! Nevermind, CGal, we've got to get started! TOW TRUCK!!"

Either way, "tune up" was never the right way to describe going into the hospital for CF. This name implied that you would go in to the "service station" in the morning and be done by the end of the day. This name implied that you would definitely feel better at the end. This name implied that there was nothing actually wrong with your "car" in the first place, you were just being a responsible "car owner" to get a "tune up." And the the most untrue implication of all, the name implies that the cost to you will be very low.

What a lie.

In any event, if hospitalizations are meant to be like tune-ups, I would like them to be more like this: so that the maze of life can keep going by on the left, and you can pull off to the right, all crazy with your health out of control, and then a team of dudes and chicks will work on your "car" really quick because they know you can't stay at the top of a steep hill on the side of the "road" forever. When you're all fixed, zoom zoom zoom you go, back into the fast lane. Merging away and no one even notices. Maybe you don't even have to drive your bunk-ass truck anymore. :)

(please disregard blatant overuse of metaphor and quotation marks to "prove" my "point.")

P.S. CGal is writing from HOME tonight. Tomorrow's topic: "Munchowsin's by Kitty?"