TGIF in the ER

Last week felt like it was taking forEVER to get through. Even my boss said to me "Is it really only Wednesday?!" I was more than ready to get to work on Friday morning, get the day over and done with, and enjoy the weekend.

Only I never made it to work. I spent Friday morning in the ER.

I got up that morning, felt fine. Brushed teeth, made coffee, showered. Fine, fine and fine.

Went to make the bed and when I reached for a pillow, sharp stabbing pain in my side. Ouch. Seriously. OUCH. The kind of pain where you just yelp. And the pain wouldn't go away. And it hurt like a sonnavabitch when I took a deep breath.

MVP helped me up onto the bed to sit. I sent a quick email to my boss letting him know I was going to be late. After a few moments of watching me wince and my hand grip the comforter with each pang of pain, he announced we were going to the ER.


I protested, saying he should just go to work, I'd be fine in a little while and then I would go to work.

No dice.

MVP was moving quickly around the room, tugging on a pair of jeans, grabbing my sneakers for me. And all I could think was, "I need a different shirt to put on".

I had not yet dressed for work and was wearing what I had slept in the night before. Yoga pants and a freaking SORORITY T-SHIRT. No way in hell I was going to be a grown-ass woman in the ER on a Friday morning in a Bid Day t-shirt. After heaving a "Are you freaking kidding me?!?"-type sigh, MVP helped me change into something I deemed more ER-appropriate (plain white T and a hooded sweatshirt), put my sneakers on for me, and helped me out to the car.

After a short stint with the triage nurse who checked my vitals and such, I was moved to bed #12. I was hooked up to an EKG, medicated, xrayed, and blood was taken. I sent emails to work letting them know I would not be in that day; MVP did the same.

He let me squeeze his hand really hard each time the pain came back. He asked if I was ok, I said I would be fine. He told me I looked stressed; told me not to worry about missing work or whatever was upsetting me.

I told him I knew work would be fine...I just wished he had let me put on a swipe or two of mascara and a little powder before I had to brave the world that day.

"We are in the EMERGENCY ROOM, you have a machine monitoring your every move, and an IV in your arm and you're upset that you didn't get to put any makeup on?!?"

"Yes. That's right. I mean, I wasn't going to ask YOU to do it for me. Remember in that episode of 'Friends' when Rachel had to get Ross to put on her makeup for her because she was hurt?"



Dead silence from MVP. Just an expression that could best be summed up with 3 letters:
W
T
F

After confirming that there was nothing wrong with my heart, that I did not have a collapsed lung or blood clotting, the docs concluded it was likely just something like a strained skeletal muscle, wrote me up some prescriptions and discharged me.

We went and filled the prescriptions, picked up some lunch, and headed home. MVP was a very attentive nurse and I spent the rest of the day resting and sleeping as a result of the muscle relaxers I was prescribed.

A very unexpected ending to a long and tiring week.