Of ERs and Hurricanes
Monday night I fell over the vacuum cleaner, which we like to keep in the middle of the floor. I ended up going to the emergency room at 10 p.m. b/c I seriously thought it was broken (although Big Daddy tried to convince me otherwise). After almost six hours in the waiting room, I finally got called back. Then X-rays, a quick visit from a doctor to tell me it was only sprained, and those magic words from the nurse: "narcotic pain relievers." At 5 a.m. I finally called Big Daddy to come back & pick me up. Not real happy with the care I received there.
In other news, I'm very concerned about my home town on the coast that's about to be battered by Ivan. They're calling it the worst storm to hit the coast since Camille in '69. I survived two Category 3 storms when I lived there. I guess this one's a Four. It's kind of depressing for me. I know what those storms can do to a place.
