Apparently, tho, 7 hours in the car w/your legs scrunched up made the situation worse, far worse.
At 3 pm today, I'm at Scott's, and I call the police station for info on how to take an ambulance to the ER at Abington Hospital. Dispatcher Melissa - beep! - tells me what to do.
I call 911. They're all ready to come out NOW.
Wait a minute, I say. I'm not packed. I'll call you when I'm ready,
Now commences the scurriation to get ready for the ER. And YOU know who packs my bags and runs home to pick up
- my long gray skirt
- cell phone
- apple and grapes
while I packed a book, my pills just in case they wanted to keep me overnite for some hidden cancer they'd discover, tho, generally speaking, we don't get cancer until we're in our late 80s.
Fireman Rich arrived first. I scolded him gently for impersonating a police officer. He hadn't a stitch of red on anywhere! That man did not for a moment wanna be confused w/a cop. He was a proud firefighter.
Add your Red, lad, and then get back to me.
Essentially I stopped walking last bite. Too painful. Everything I needed was in Scott's big bed & surrounding tables, bed shelves. A bucket for pishing stood next to the bed.
A total of 7 firemen arrived. Second Alarmers from Willow Grove. Here let's find us a photo online.
The worst part was getting me down the steps. They strapped me in a chair while I screamed in pain. You can still observe the world while you're in pain but it's not any fun.
Outside waited the stretcher & the darn paparazzi. Can't a girl ever get any privacy? They lay me face down on the stretcher, per my instrux & loaded me inside facing the drivers. I'm only 8 minutes away from the hospital.
When you're w/experts, be sure to get some good info from them.
If you were sick, I asked em, which ER is the best?
Abington Memorial Hospital or Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. I'll keep that in mind the next time we watch the dolphins at The Aquarium, once was enuf.
I was in the curtained ER suite in no time - leave it open, please, I say, I wanna watch what's going on - & was imme'ly seen & evaluated by Nurse Christine. We were really waiting for the doctor, the man w/the Rx pad.
Mike Pickett, MD, no relation to Wilson or the Civil War dude, came in, examined me - by now, Scott had gotten there - and diagnosed me w/sciatica. I told him my fam doctor had phoned in Vicodin pills to a Cleveland pharmacy, but all they did was make my nose itch & put me to sleep in the middle of a TV concert.
Mike conferred w/his boss, who also came to visit me, and tap me, and finally the verdict was in: Make mine Dilauded, some sort of narcotic.
Mom, said Dan, when I called my son, that's legal heroin.
Believe me, my fix is nothing to write home about, tho I should probly see if there are any empty beds at Betty Ford.
So, how do I feel, tapping out this post w/one hand only - can't sit up cuz it hurts too much? The pain, I would say, has diminished by 10 percent. I still haven't downloaded my 114 photos from Cleveland - is it possible to work while you're on heroin? I'm awfully tired. I mean, so tired I
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