Sunday, September 18, 2005

Fun Day at the ER

I have had the day from hell. Let me back up...

Last night, my daughter, Melissa, somehow poked herself in the eye with broom handle at work and she called me, crying, asking if I'd come get her being as she couldn't see to drive. I pick her up and it's worse than I thought. Her eye was swollen and she was in considerable pain. I asked her if she wanted to go to the emergency room and she said, no, just take me home.

At exactly 7:30 this morning, she's banging the door down and pleading with me to take her to the ER. She is in incredible pain and I am completely disoriented...because I have this ritual I do every morning and without it, I'm immobile, incoherent and good for nothing.

My ritual involves getting up and smoking a cig (I know bad me) and opening up my email. This is the only thing that wakes me up and I need this to begin my day. Those with rituals might understand this.

But those without rituals who can jump up and begin their day like any other normal human being - which I never claimed to be - don't understand this and my daughter is one of them.

So, here we have someone in need of dire medical attention and needs to go to the ER, and I'm sitting at the computer reading my email. Still completely disoriented, I remember apologizing to her, saying I have to do this if she wanted me to be able to take her down there and she's being very patient, lying there on the sofa like she's half-dead. While I'm trying to wake up, the only thing I could think about was what the hell do I have to wear. Was it hot enough for shorts or cool enough for jeans? Do I take a shower or pull my hair up in a loose bun?

I chose the shower thing hoping I'd wake up, which up to this point was still not happening. I didn't sleep well and I think I maybe had a couple hours sleep tops, so I was really in the no-brain zone.

So, I got out of the shower and found a t-shirt and opted for shorts knowing me and my hot flashes and told her to go on and get up and change. I walk back in her room and she has chosen an outfit that is completely - how do I want to put that - something you would put on to go to bed? The t-shirt was okay but the sweatpant thingee she had going on did not even come close to matching her shirt and what's up with boots this time of year?

I wanted to say something but I knew she was in pain, so I just casually mentioned that they didn't match and she replying with she didn't care.

We finally make it to the hospital and find out that she has cut her eyeball - in the doc's own words, a corneal abrasion. I am to administer these special eye drops once every two hours and then put these other special eye drops in her eye 4 times a day. They really expect me to do this, too. Supposedly, she'll be good as new anywhere from 24 - 48 hours. So far, I don't see much of a difference but it's only been a few hours.

So, she comes out from her bedroom a little while ago and asks me to fix her something to eat (keep in mind, she's playing the blind person to the hilt). I get up to fix her a TV dinner, and pour her a glass of Pepsi. So, we're sitting here, going over the day's events and I tell her about her fashion blunder and my ritual act and she said, "Some day, we're going to have a laugh over this."

And she was right. But, isn't that like me, though? Even in an emergency involving my own flesh and blood, I still gotta have my computer fix before I can even begin to tackle a thing. Something's definitely wrong with this picture. Do I need help or what?

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