Hell's Waiting Room from 4-22-2008

But…anyway…
Well, well, well. So Monday night was shaping up like any other. I was making dinner and looking forward to a relaxing evening of vegging on the couch when I was suddenly attacked by a violent soup can. Ok, I'm exaggerating just a tad. It began after I opened a can of some tasty cream of mushroom soup. I leave the lids attached to the can, you see. So as I brought my hand down from the cabinet, I sliced open my middle finger. As exciting as that sounds, this is actually the beginning of my adventures.
Soon after I crumpled to the floor in pain and shock, I cried out for my fearless husband. "I need you!" My sobbing took over my ability to talk and even my usually consoling dogs ran for the hills. Unfortunately for me, Jason was 'detained' in the bathroom, if you know what I mean. He kept yelling through the wall in an attempt to figure out what the hell was going on. Cue the marching band at Franklin High School behind our house, and everything was thrown into chaos.
Later, after Jason had wiped, washed, and come to my rescue, we went to the hospital. Where we waited. And waited… and waited. During the four hours we spent in the Garden City Hospital Emergency Department, we witnessed many displays of humanity at its worst. Such examples are:
Listening to a baby screaming its head off
Listening to a sick Arabic woman yak in the women's room.
A child vomiting pink chunks in her mothers' hands
Listening to the extensive drug-use history of another patient. (Apparently, he's kicking cocaine at the moment).
My particular favorite was listening to the conversation in the ER bed next to mine (those flimsy curtains are useless). Here is the sexy dialogue between the poor mangled woman and the doctor doing her stiches.
Shitty Doctor: Ok, you should be numb by now. This might be easier if you lie down."
White Trash Lady: Ok

Moment of silence
WTL: "Ow!"
SD: "You felt that?"
WTL: "Yes! I mean, I felt the tip go in, but I didn't feel anything after that"
SD: "I'll try to be more gentle"
WTL: "I think I feel it – is it in now"?
SD: "Yes, it's in. We're almost done"
My own stitches were not nearly as sensual. However, the doc did manage to squeeze the oozing yellow fat back into my finger and close the wound. We got home around 12:30am and passed out shortly thereafter.