Georgie's Discharged from the Hive Clinic...


Well, I can’t tell you how Happy I was when Nurse Beeatrice finally gave me my Papers and released me from the Hive Clinic’s
Questionably Traumatic Cranial Injury Ward. I thought I’d never get out of that place. Seriously.

Of course, I was sure that the Clinic would make sure I’d make it back Home to my ShoeBox Safely and Soundly, but of course, that didn’t happen.

After Nurse Beeatrice gave me my Discharge Papers, she just wrapped a piece of Complementary Piece of Green Yarn around where my Neck should bee but isn’t, and said, “Here, maybee this By-Prescription-Only Therapeutic Wool Warming Device will help with your Ongoing Recovery - or not, but it’s the best we could do under the Circumstances. We’ve taken the Liberty of billing your Account 500 Pounds of Honey for this. We’ll expect Payment in Full of any and all Outstanding Account Balances by the End of the Month. Now kindly leave the Premises. You’ve hung out here quite long enough. Go.”

Then she ordered Beeson, the Clinic Orderly, to Blindfold me, spin me around three times, then Escort me from the Premises. Talk about an Unusual Discharge Procedure.

Anyway, Beeson took me out into the Middle of some Unidentified Meadow that I didn’t know Where it was. He sat me down on an old, rusted Bottle Cap, took the Blindfold off, and said, “Good luck, pal.” Then he flew off.

Geeeeeze. I dunno about you, but I don’t like the Fact that the Hive Clinic is obviously engaging in Patient Dumping. How unbeelievably Unethical is that? But, bee that as it may bee or not bee, I hafta say that about the only thing I could do after all that was to Sit there on that Bottle Cap and try to somehow figure out A) Where I was, and Bee) figure out how to get home. I was lost deep in a State of Awakened Confusion when I suddenly heard a soft buzzing off to my Left.

“Hi Georgie,” I heard a voice say.

I looked around and could see that there was a small Bee standing not all that far away. I also couldn’t help but Notice that she was holding a Leash in her Wing which was attached to what appeared to bee a Reasonably Substantially Large LadyBug.

“Hello?” I said.

I’m pretty sure she Sensed my State of Confusion, and asked me, “You don’t Remember me, do you, Georgie?”
Oh sure, her Buzz sounded familiar, but I just couldn’t Place the face.

“Uh…. yyyy…,” I started to say. “No,” I said instead (beecause, as Confused as I was at that l point, I still beelieve Honesty is the Best Policy, usually - at least, that’s what I read once in Rolling Pebble Magazine, and as we all know, if you read it in Rolling Pebble, it must bee true).

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah.

“I’m Pinky. And it’s no Surprised you might not Remember me,” she said.

“I also don’t Remember that LadyBug,” I informed her. “I suppose that’s your Pet LadyBug, and you’re taking her out for a Walk? Is that what’s happening here?”

“No, not really,” Pinky said. “We’re more or less on a Rescue Mission. And this isn’t actually my Pet. She’s an Emotional Support/Certified Service LadyBug who, as you may or may not Remember but you probably don’t beecause you were in a Persistent Coma for 235 Days, came with me to visit you almost every day while you were in the Clinic.”

“Seriously?” I asked. I hafta say that I had absolutely no Memory of Pinky’s Visits, or of the Emotional Support/Certified Service LadyBug.

“I’m sorry,” I told her, “I hafta say that I have absolutely no Memory of your Visits, or of your Service LadyBug.”

“Certified Service LadyBug,” she Corrected me, “but that’s quite alright,” Pinky said. “The fact is that you were pretty much Out Of It. during our Visits.”

We didn’t say anything for a few minutes after that, but just kind of stared at each other, until I finally said, “So, I’m trying to find my way back to my ShoeBox, but I seem to bee Highly Lost at the moment,” I told her.

“Yes, I know,” Pinky said in a kind Matter-of-Factly way. “That’s why we’re here - to Rescue you. I already knew that the Hive Clinic always dumps their Patients out here - which is Highly Unethical, if you ask me - so I was Well-Aware that you’d bee here, feeling Lost, since you were just Discharged. And I knew you’d been Discharged beecause we tried to Visit you at the Clinic this Morning, and Nurse Beeatrice Informed me that you had been Officially and Formally Discharged. So I knew we’d find you here. We’re here to help you out.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s very Kind of you. I appreciate that,” I said, appreciatively.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“So Pinky, can we do the Rescue Part of all this now so I can get back Home to my ShoeBox? I think until I know for sure where I am, I won’t know for sure where I’m going.”

“Of course, and that makes Perfect Sense, but Rest Assured,” she Assured me, “I know precisely where you Are. But first, I beelieve it would bee fair to say that you’re feeling Significantly Hungry, right? Nurse Beeatrice didn’t Feed you beefore your were Discharged, did she?”

“Right. And no, actually, she didn’t,” I told her.

“Typical.” she said. “Here’s an idea: Let’s go to Brunch,” (she suggested Brunch beecause it was somewhere beetween Breakfast and Lunch while we were having this Conversation, and I certainly Agreed with her that Brunch was most appropriate since I’d still bee able to have Lunch, which I was planning to do beecause I was, as Pinky said, Significantly Hungry), “and,” she continued, “while we’re eating, we can finally enjoy a nice, Fully-Conscious Face-to-Face Visit that you’ll bee more likely to Remember, and I can get you Up To Speed on everything you’ve Missed while you were in your Persistent Coma.”

“Missed? What did I miss? Did I miss a lot?” I asked.

“We’ll eat - and we’ll Talk,” she said.

“Fine,” I said.

So after a Surprisingly Short Flight, I can finally say that I know where I am: we’re here, standing in Line and waiting for a Table for Brunch at Lousy Louie’s Nectar Bar and Grill. I hope it doesn’t take a Week to get into this place (Lousy Louie’s Brunches are always Crowded, as you know). I’m beeyond Hungry. But while we’re waiting, I think I need to go to the Bathroom.

I’ll bee back.

GEORGIE WAKES UP! ... and just in time for National HoneyBee Day!


So the first thing I heard when I opened my Compound Eyes this morning was, “Happy National Honeybee Day, Georgie!”, and about the only thing I managed to say (after I got those miserable Tubes out of my Mouthparts) was, “What day is it?”

“It’s National Honeybee Day! And YOU are finally Awake! We do not fully understand Why or How, but you have finally Emerged from your Persistent Coma, and have, at long last, rejoined the Ranks of the Aware, Uncle! Here, have a Cookie!”

When I was finally able to sit up and focus my Vision, I saw Kevin, my Illegitimate Nephew, standing there more or less smiling at me. Next to him was Great Grandma Gee Gee, who was holding a Delightfully Large Platter full of her Delicious and Marginally Nutritious Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™.

“Welcome back, Dear, and please do have a Cookie,” she said. “You need to build your Strength, and one of my Cookies is just the thing you need to start feeling like Yourself again.”

As I munched on a Cookie, I also spotted another Worker Bee who was wearing a pair of Red Eyeglasses and standing right next to Great Grandma Gee Gee. She looked vaguely Familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my WingTip on who she was, so I looked at her and asked, “And who might you bee?”

“Who do you think I am? I’m ButterCup, you silly Bee,” she said. “Don’t you remember me? I mean okay fine, you’ve been in a Persistent Coma for approximately 235 Days now, but seriously now, you don’t recognise your own Girlfriend? I’m the one who’s stood Vigil at your Bedside since that Unfortunate Dinner Party Mishap, who has read to you almost every other week, and who made sure that Nurse Beeatrice wasn’t trying to tie knots in your Feeding Tube? I’m hurt, Georgie.”

“I’m sorry. I apologise, ButterCup. I didn’t mean to Hurt your Feelings. To bee Honest, everything still looks Highly Blurry to me … and I just didn’t recognise you in those new Glasses.”

“I get that a lot,” she told me.

“They mostly look good on you,” I told her.

“Mostly?” ButterCup’s voice suddenly had an Edge to it.

“Well, yeah, I mean…” I started to say.

“Never mind, Georgie. I know you’re still not Seeing - or Thinking - very clearly yet… after all, you’ve been in a Persistent Coma, and I suppose it’s enough that you finally Woke Up,” ButterCup said.

“…and we’re so very Pleased and Delighted that you did finally wake up, Dear,” Gee Gee said. “Here, have another Cookie.”

So I did that.

I hafta say that I’m more than ready to get out of this Bed and get back home to my Cozy and Well-Appointed ShoeBox, but I’ve just been told that I have to wait until Nurse Beeatrice brings me my Discharge Papers which, she said, “I will get to you the very instant I feel like getting around to doing which just happens to bee not right now.”

I guess while I’m waiting, I should just sit here and rebuild my Strength with some more Cookies.

So I’m gonna do that.


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