Last night I felt like I was in an episode of ER.
Probably ’cause I was in the ER.
This is what I remember:
Men’s feet in flip-flops. Standing beside his wife injured in the car accident. She jokes with the staff as they examine her, even though she says it hurts to laugh. “Tell the kids I love them.” Later, I want to throw back the curtain and give her a hug when I hear her whimper.
Hot pink crocks, white socks, scrubs.
Cursing woman with a hernia and schizophrenia needs a smoke and a trip to the bathroom. Soon she’s snoring.
Pregnant woman rolls in on a reclining wheelchair. The back of her right hand rests on her glossy forehead. “We’re going to have to keep you here.” Later, she walks slowly down the hall wearing a hospital gown, holding her back.
Deep-in-the-chest-heaving-shoulders-sobs.
Dr: “My mom says that!”
Injured woman: “Oh, she does?”
Dr: “Yes! um, but….not to say that’s an old person saying or anything…”
A crying mother races through security with her 13-day-old who just had a seizure.
Chicken Caesar salad with basalmic vinaigrette, baked lays, water.
Trying not to cry as my husband turns red and puffy and into one giant hive.
The dr. smiles, tilts her head slightly, reaches out her hand, says “I’m sorry that you’re here.”
I have two books and a newspaper to read but I really wish I had my journal. I scrounge through my purse and find the back of a Brugger’s coupon to write on. I pause, then decide that notes are more important than $1 off a Brrrueggaccino.
So many stories I’ll never know the ending to.
But at least I know the ending to the most important one: Aaron recovered from an allergic reaction within a couple hours and was released. He’s feeling better now.
