I got a phone call earlier today, #4 did something teenaged and boneheaded and very male which resulted in a broken collar bone. No big deal, as injuries go, he didn’t cry or wail or do anything much except complain about it hurting. But then as a 15 yr old with sideburns one wouldn’t expect that. Anyway, I took him to the ER,and when we got there, was very excited because the waiting room was empty with the exception of a family who was obviously waiting for someone already there.
SCORE! I thought…this won’t be long, in an out in a hour and Sunday will not be ruined after all! Only… (you knew this was coming)
When we were in with the nurse, giving particulars and blood pressures and stuff, there was a…noise. Out in the waiting room. Like…
Then it happened again. And again. and yet another time.
I looked at the nurse, who’s face was likely as horrified as mine. And I asked if we could pretty please stay in there with her for a while, and she was very apologetic when she said no, that I needed to wait…out……….there.
After tenatively peeking out the door, we looked to find a safe path and found a seat as far away from Ralph as we could. By this time someone had located a large trash can for him to stick his head down into. It served as an excellent amplifier for his projectile regurgitations, so we were serenaded vigorously, with play-by-play commentary by a 3 year old “Mammy! Dat man frew up adain!”
(Please God, I am so sorry this man is so sick and I know he is miserable and would rather be doing anything besides creating more work for custodians but please, God, I know you love us so GET US OUT OF HERE)
He is quickly taken to the back. I am thinking “Oh good, we’re next!” then we hear shouting and a man comes in holding a bloodsoaked towel to his leg and I think “Ok, maybe not”
And then a man comes in carrying a sad looking 9 year-ish old boy draped in a blanket. There are a lot of very worried family with him. A nurse comes up and peeks under the blanket, and startles with an “Oh my, that’s a compound fracture” and I think “Ok, guess we’ll wait a little longer then.”
Which is fine, really. because #4 was doing ok, relatively speaking. Eventually we got seen, by a pretty nurse and a doctor who looked like Robin Williams in a beard. A cup full of pain meds, an x-ray, and a sling later, we are done. I was starving for a thick grilled steak, a baked potato and a salad with fattening dressing and a molten lava cake with a glass of Bailey’s. Instead I had lentils. Because.
It was 6:30 by the time we were done and home, too late for church. Oh well.
I hope Ralph is ok. I didn’t know someone’s stomach could hold that much.