Rock, Scissors, Paper

I suggested it two weeks ago. You can't talk to the person in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber next to you, but you can see them.

The person in the tube next to me is David, a 60-something guy who lives on a farm. He doesn't farm anymore because of the infection in his foot. When I said we could play 'Rock, Scissors, Paper', because we could see each other while we were getting the hyperbaric oxygen treatment, he though it was a good idea. Good enough that he mentioned it a few times when we were getting ready to go into the tubes.

Treatment? Yes, treatment. You go to the Wound Care center and a very nice nurse takes your temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and blood sugar levels. You change out of your clothes and into two hospital gowns, one front, one back. You have to remove everything, jewelry, dog tags, hair bands, everything, because during the treatment you're in a chamber - an acrylic tube filled with pure oxygen at two atmospheres pressure. Anything with even the remotest possibility of producing a spark is forbidden. The oxygen chamber would explode, immolating you and everyone around you.

But David seems intrigued by the idea of playing Rock, Scissors, Paper. He mentions it for the third or fourth time and Marilynn, the very nice nurse who is responsible for the treatments, agrees. She says she'll coordinate.

Usually, in the chamber, you're isolated. Marilynn can talk to you, over a phone, but other than that, and physical gestures, like a thumbs up, you're isolated. Sounds from the outside of the chamber are muffled.

But this time David and I actually play Rock, Scissors. Paper. Marilyn, standing between our clear acrylic tubes, officiates.

Now, to tell you the truth, David cheated.

He waited until after I committed to choose his play.

That is the only reason he won.

But the thing is, it doesn't matter who won. Two people, both in danger of losing a limb to disease, isolated in separate chambers, separate pure oxygen tubes, managed to break through the barriers and play - communicate.

It was fun and afterward, outside the chambers, we high-fived in celebration of our victory over the isolation of the tubes.

It doesn't matter who won - we both did.