The ER= one word....CLASSY!

The Boy and I were enjoying a nice combination of football and baseball on tv last night in my room. I mean what more could this girl ask for really???? Thank goodness for the "recall" button on the remote...it really saves a lot of quality watching time. At the precise moment when one of those people hit one of those ball things...we heard kind of a crash. I figured it was the neighbors getting excited about the game. The Boy insisted it was my roommate in the living room. Whatever. I didn't check. A few seconds later another crash. Being the responsible apartment renter that I am...I still didn't check. A few minutes later our stomachs were calling to us so I retreated to the kitchen for some snacks when I was approached by my roomie who was interested in my opinion on the gash in his forehead. What in the world??? He quickly explained he had a small problem. In my opinion and from my colleague that talks about "Tattle Tongue" and when not to seek help and when to take care of it yourself...in this case it was necessary to get an adult.
"Well MegPie, I was going pee and the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor!" Just then he turns and runs into the bathroom to puke his brains up...he proceeds on about 3 more times. After much pacing trying to figure out what to do with him I make the executive apartment decision that we are going to the ER. The Boy drives. The Boy pulls over. The roomie pukes. We get there. The roomie pukes again. I can hear oinking from the parking lot. We hold our breath for the next 2 hours.

And so it begins.

Family #1: Dante is being seen. Dante's momma is there. His daddy. His brother. His daddy's "girl". Dante is about 9ish. Dante does not read a lick. (just the teacher in me) Dante is throwing paper around like a football with his dad...Why is he here again? I can tell in his voice he has some kind of croupy something. He shares his drink with his little brother about 2 and the little brother climbs up in the chair next to me and proceeds to put his mouth all over my sweathshirt. Note to self: time to bath in Purell.

Family #2: My two dads. One boy. One dad being seen. Wearing mask, but removing for easy access to licorice that is being stuffed in mouth. Why is he here again? They retreat to the car after giving 7 year old a Pop Tart at 11:00pm.

It's always a good sign when there are wall dividers separating the "flu people" from the "non-flu people"...what's even better is when they don't sit in there.

I get a call from the nurse telling me to go ahead and leave without the roommate. We ran.

The roommate is fine. Perhaps he got up to fast, fainted while peeing, and hit his head on something. Shower door not so fine. Towel rack not so fine. He is a very tall drink of water in a very small apartment bathroom. The puking was from a concussion.

I can't wait to get back to that hospital!