No nice drugs this time. I had an EKG because of the chest vs. steering wheel impact and x-rays to see why my gut hurt so much. Hopefully, that is just more temporary damage from the steering wheel. However, since they're not sure, no zippy pain-relieving pharmaceuticals. Just me, ice packs, the sofa, and the generic ibuprofen I bought last night in what appears to be a fleeting moment of brilliant foresight.
While I was at the ER for three hours, there was quite the parade of injuries:
1. A man who cut his leg on the ferris wheel at the county fair (where I'd hoped to be tomorrow evening, taking neon shots)
2. A guy who'd burned his hand on an industrial incinerator (EEEK)
3. A teen who had been hit by a car and did a somersault over the hood of said car
4. Someone who'd been knocked in the head by a railroad crossing bar (I think you get extra style points just for the bizarreness of that!)
I was very boring in comparison.
Time to stop. Five minutes at the keyboard is enough.
Thanks, folks, for the nice words and sympathy! I'll be beaming you very kind thoughts in return, from the safety of the sofa. The comfy, comfy sofa. Where I will be for the next couple of days...
Before I slip into incoherent power-lounging with ice packs, a serious moment:
Rest in peace, Bernie Mac. He seemed like a pretty decent soul, and I really dug his show - in fact, I was watching an episode late last night. Folks, never take respiratory ailments for granted. Take it from someone who's had a scary bout of pneumonia - it moves fast and will mess you up.
Sorry to see yet another talented person die far too soon. Adios, Bernie.