Only a trip to the hospital could have kept me from Donald Trump’s inauguration

A cold shoulder for hosps

Winter vacations. Colorado. Switzerland. Tahoe. Iceland. For me, the ICU.

Shove snow, skis, sleet. Me: serum, bandages, shots, nurses, doctors — and hospital food so bad that the chef must’ve interned at Guantanamo. Deadlier than Ukraine’s front line.

Me: nurses, doctors, machines, injections. I did not attend the inaugural. Watching CNN trudge down the toilet, I happily knew that when Joe and Mika arrived, Himself made them cut Mar-a-Lago’s lawn before allowing both in the servants’ entrance.

Once, covering an inaugural in Philadelphia, I had a diamond bracelet heisted. The last time — honoring Donald Trump’s first election — I sat at Kellyanne Conway’s table. With her husband.

His entire job was to schlep her mink jacket. She then dumped him. Dumb she’s not. The mink she kept.

Let’s keep it short

Donald told Bill O’Reilly he’d speak 45 minutes. Please. Just to mention Hunter’s uncashed checks from Albania took longer.

Second, Jill Biden wouldn’t exit the ladies’ room. That Buttigieg kid — who doesn’t yet know when the War of 1812 got fought — had to go in and tell her “Hon, get off. For you it’s either Delaware or Greenland.”

Although sidelined I did hear that one new State Department secretary told her new boss: “I cannot take dictation as fast as your former secretary.”

Yeah, OK, so the question is, what exactly was her undressing speed?

Now, realities. I’m out of Intensive Care. The still peeing Democrats think it’s all the fault of Ulysses S. Grant — but that’s because they can’t pronounce his name. Most just called him Ralph.

And forget Kamala — which we already have. Kamala? Who emerged from the womb in a pantsuit? With a husband who embodies all the spit and polish of a used commode?

Chiefs of State rarely write their own inauguration burble. Exception? George Washington. His 200 words could be taken to mean “As president I have to live in New York which I hate.” Yeah? Down boy, and neither are you any better a looker than Jerry Nadler.

Also, thinking of Panama — where they overcharge for hats — I’ve been up all night.

ICU, NYC! ICU

So, why was I in the ICU? I was so out of it that I thought those were my initials. I’ll try to explain it down the line. Could I have blamed it all on Pelosi who left rich enough to buy her Clairol in bulk?

Also, the difference between an inaugural and an MRI? Wardrobe. Stethoscopes rarely match handbags.

And old-time white uniforms with matching cap? Now it’s Crocs, jeans, plaid shirt and irritation when your falling out of bed jogs their cellphone’s to-do list.

Your room warm? Try Jacksonville. Clean? Lotsa luck. Breakfast? Rikers gets four stars. I mean, please.

It feels so good to be back on the page! It was lonely without you, kids, it was lonely without you.