While the year started with such promise, I would now like a do-over. This last week has left me sobbing hysterically not once, not twice, but many times (most in the last 13 hours or so). I mean, really! How much can I (or my friends) take? I call shenanigans and demand a do-over! Yes, there are certain things that I would like to not change… like the Caps win last night, or the Long Beach trip, or the evolving of things with B… but the rest of it – changes, please!
So, after spending the last 9 hours at the GW Medical Center emergency room, I am tired and frustrated. Yes, I realize it’s a Friday night in Georgetown, for crissakes, however, my father was in that emergency room from 11am – 11pm. For a traffic accident (granted, he was damn lucky to survive that accident). The trauma team was involved on the initial arrival, then my dad was rolled into a hall and forgotten. For sutures. When the suture person finally came (and apologized greatly – she was super nice), of course my dad had to pull a bit of the dramatic and have his blood pressure crash when they administered Lidocaine. *rolling eyes* (I suppose that’s where my bit of drama comes from.) The sutures took forever and I got to watch, an experience I never want to repeat. Then we were rolled off to another hallway to wait for the Ortho resident. We ran into her accidentally, an hour later, because they hadn’t told her where they’d put us and we were asking where she was. And then it took another two hours to discharge us. And all this time my poor dad was lying on this gurney (I think that’s what they’re called, who knows), without a stitch on except for a blanket lying on gravel from the accident. My dad’s a modest guy, he wasn’t very happy about that. So I ran home and fetched clothing for him – and also to give me some time away from it all to have my mini-breakdown.
I don’t mean to sound like they totally sucked. The medical attention we received was great, the forgetting of us however, wasn’t so great. Of course, I’m trying to hold it all together for my dad and I’m on the verge of tears the whole fucking time. I wish they had had more ER rooms for their patients. Both Mami and Daddy would have been much happier. Luckily for us, one of my Daddy’s bosses was there the entire time, holding us all together. He was the one who came out to tell me about Daddy’s blood pressure crashing and calm me down. He went home to take care of his kids and insisted on coming back and waiting with us. He also told me how lucky Daddy was. How he shouldn’t come away with as few injuries as he did.
Watching your parents in the hospital is a scary thing. I can count the number of times I’ve seen my father cry on one hand, and it’s always been shocking, but nothing was like seeing him grab my mother’s hand when the doctor performing the sutures asked us to leave the room. He’s always been my big, strong hero. To see that he was scared… well, it scared me. I won’t forget the look on his face at that moment for the rest of my life. When we finally got him home, I made him some chicken noodle soup (he hadn’t eaten) while Mami made up the bed for him. He couldn’t eat it on his own because he was so sore. So, I had to feed him. Which is a really weird, surreal experience. (I am bad at feeding people. He had to give me pointers, lol.) I mean, this man fed me for the first years of my life, has fed me soup when I was sick, and here I was, feeding him. (Damnit, there go the tears again.)
So, now I’m home and completely knackered. After I check my email, I’m off to bed. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and today will have never happened! Maybe?