Last night in my dream my gangster boyfriend said to me (as he was running out of town to avoid the wrath of Al Pacino), "Yeah, I was going to marry you because I need to be unhappily married. That way if I get killed, people will think it's a suicide."
So, the weekend. It was eventful.
Friday: Spent the evening at home in tears. Not sure why.
Saturday: Tubing tubing tubing! It was so much fun, I can't tell you. It was a beautiful day, just hot enough, and it was great to be out in the country driving around, and then to be floating down a river, somewhat drunk, with 10 friends. A floating party! What a great idea! And we would stop and smoke and swim and splash each other . . . it was great. Go tubing.
Sunday: Emergency! Adam's roommate C. gave him a rope w/ lights inside it for his birthday. Supposedly if you hook them up to your stereo or whatever they flash in time to the music. Adam was swinging them around saying, "Hey, I'm an electric cowboy!" when he hit himself in the eyeball, shattering his contact and making his eyeball bleed, which isn't pretty. So we went to the ER. If you want to spend an extremely unfun Sunday in a place that will make you realize how much fun even your most boring ordinary Sunday is, allow me to recommend the Touro Emergency Room. Here is a brief itinerary from yesterday:
1. Arrive ER at 11 a.m. Check in twice within the first half hour.
2. Wait 3 hours in ER waiting room (despite the fact that the ER is fairly quiet and there don't seem to be many patients about). Watch sick old lady kneel in front of a chair with her head in the chair. Listen to woman, who is lying spread-eagle on the floor, moan in pain. Worry that boyfriend may be blinded for life. Feel the effects of drinking many beers on the river the day before.
3. Get moved to private ER room. Rejoice.
4. Wait another hour. Have RN come in and make inane conversation. "Hit your eye, did you? That's no good."
5. Have resident (a large woman named Dr. Bondlace or something, who continuously called Adam "sweetie") come in and tell you that there are, indeed, chunks of contact lens still in the eye, and that you will need to move to the eye room, which is occupied right now.
6. Wait another hour.
7. Move to eye room. Have insane doctor w/ dyed blond buzz cut and goggles come in and say "Hey, what were you doing, playing Cowboy Bob?" (Adam:"Something like that . . .) Insane Doctor goes on to make fun of Resident Doctor for calling Adam sweetie ("Sorry," she says, "bad habit"), and then warns that The Wife (I realize after a second or two that this means me) is going to get jealous.
8. Watch Insane Doctor yank shards of glass out of boyfriend's eye as Resident holds him down and his legs kick up in pain.
9. Doctors leave. More waiting.
10. Go pee, call C. to tell her that A. is okay and not blinded. Come back to find that boyfriend has received a tetanus (sp?) shot from the Weird RN, who, says Adam, "Just came in, stuck me, and left."
11. Wait.
12. Have RN come in and stand behind Adam, who is watching TV, for some time. Finally she says, "They're going to discharge you now," and leaves.
13. Leave (after just five hours!) w/ 2 prescriptions in hand, one for eye drops, one for pain killers.
14. Fill prescriptions. Settle in for long evening of cable watching (did I mention that A. got cable so that he could watch the World Cup? it's so great), relaxed by pain killers. (I've actually never taken them before when I wasn't sick. I felt like quite the junkie.)
Design by Soapboxdiner, modified by Red Dirt Girl.
Copyright � 2002-2005.