My blog weekend extended into Monday this week, because my weekend was a little bit crazy and I needed an extra day. This was mostly because I spent Saturday night in the ER, and I feel I was robbed of one of the best nights of the week.
I’m totally fine, and while I don’t really want to get into why I was there, it was less of an ’emergency’ and more of a ‘let’s check to make sure you aren’t dying’ type of situation, and I’m not dying, so really it was the best kind of ER visit there was. I’ve never been to the emergency room before, (hell, I’ve been to a real doctor like 3 times that I can remember), so it was kind of exciting in retrospect.
I spent most of my stay there watching my heart rate monitor, pretending I was on Scrubs/wishing JD would come bursting through the curtain, being wheeled around in my bed, which is quite awkward, particularly when you are perfectly capable of walking on your own, but can’t because then everyone could see your butt, since you’re in a hospital gown, and trying to keep from flashing everyone, since said hospital gown had a nice hole perfectly placed over my chest.
I left with a hospital bracelet, some heart monitor pads stuck to my chest, which was awesome because I didn’t remember they were there until I was getting ready for bed later, and a nice bruise.
This picture doesn’t fully do it justice. I call it my track mark, which I think says less about my bruise and more about the fact that I clearly have no idea what a track mark looks like, and I’m afraid to google it.
Anyway, the hospital is cool, but I never want to go there again. I simply cannot handle strangers sticking their hands down my shirt like it isn’t any big thing.