Tears for Fears (Not the Band)
I must say that receiving a phonecall saying that one of your best friends has been in a bad car accident has to be one of the worst experiences in the world. You know nothing. You're helpless and in LA traffic, it takes you 45 minutes to get to the hospital. Good times, good times.
That's exactly what happened late last week. Upon receipt of the phonecall from Gwen, I raced to the UCLA Medical Center where our friend had been taken to the emergency room as a trauma patient. Thank god she was awake and they had found only two small hairline fractures - but she was in excruciating pain so we were asked to stay to confirm nothing else was wrong. Unfortunately, if you don't have health insurance, you get shoved to the back of the line. Or, in her case - the hallway. There we sat. And sat. And sat. Her on the stretcher thing, Gwen at her feet and I at her head. And there we sat for 12 hours.
For the first couple hours after we knew she was going to be ok we tried to keep her in good spirits through the pain (in addition to the morphine). I think we were also trying to keep ourselves in good spirits (sans morphine, of course) because we kept cracking jokes and making each other laugh at what seemed like the most inappropriate times. We giggled at the hot paramedics and doctors and nicknamed the people around us (we were in the hallway, remember, so there were people everywhere around us): "Mean Radiology Man", "Blue Eyed Eric", "Chester the Molester", "Bloody Stump Guy", "Drunk F-ing Assumer" and "Dr. Dickhead". We had a chip buffet out of the vending machine and even, dare I say, took pictures with our camera phones - Gwen and I posing with her like "Weekend at Bernie's".
I know, I know, I know. We're demented. We're obnoxious. We're immature.
But you know what? I realized that sometimes, you have to laugh. Everyone deals with situations differently. Receiving a call from the ER Social Worker alerting you that one of your best friends has been brought in as a trauma patient causes a definite raise in bloodpressure and your mind plays tricks on you. But she was ok. We were all going to be ok. And our laughter was simply our way of letting each other know that. (Ok, and maybe we are slightly demented.)
Some of the ER workers enjoyed our antics and I'm sure there are some who didn't. But when you put three girls on display (and for one of us quite literally - can you say hospital gown?), you have to deal with the consequences. They could have admitted her to a room, but, that blue sheet, indicating her lack of private health insurance was our ticket to make the most out of a bad situation.
A few lessons learned:
1. ALWAYS maintain health insurance - no matter what. Eat Raman noodles and water, but, carry health insurance.
2. Don't talk on your cell phone and drive through red lights.
3. Always wear good underwear - you never know when two hot paramedics might have to cut them off.
4. Chili cheese Fritos are the bomb. Likewise for habenero Doritos.
5. Don't take things for granted because it can be taken from you at any minute. Live it up. Carpe diem.
6. Morphine works wonders for pain.
That's exactly what happened late last week. Upon receipt of the phonecall from Gwen, I raced to the UCLA Medical Center where our friend had been taken to the emergency room as a trauma patient. Thank god she was awake and they had found only two small hairline fractures - but she was in excruciating pain so we were asked to stay to confirm nothing else was wrong. Unfortunately, if you don't have health insurance, you get shoved to the back of the line. Or, in her case - the hallway. There we sat. And sat. And sat. Her on the stretcher thing, Gwen at her feet and I at her head. And there we sat for 12 hours.
For the first couple hours after we knew she was going to be ok we tried to keep her in good spirits through the pain (in addition to the morphine). I think we were also trying to keep ourselves in good spirits (sans morphine, of course) because we kept cracking jokes and making each other laugh at what seemed like the most inappropriate times. We giggled at the hot paramedics and doctors and nicknamed the people around us (we were in the hallway, remember, so there were people everywhere around us): "Mean Radiology Man", "Blue Eyed Eric", "Chester the Molester", "Bloody Stump Guy", "Drunk F-ing Assumer" and "Dr. Dickhead". We had a chip buffet out of the vending machine and even, dare I say, took pictures with our camera phones - Gwen and I posing with her like "Weekend at Bernie's".
I know, I know, I know. We're demented. We're obnoxious. We're immature.
But you know what? I realized that sometimes, you have to laugh. Everyone deals with situations differently. Receiving a call from the ER Social Worker alerting you that one of your best friends has been brought in as a trauma patient causes a definite raise in bloodpressure and your mind plays tricks on you. But she was ok. We were all going to be ok. And our laughter was simply our way of letting each other know that. (Ok, and maybe we are slightly demented.)
Some of the ER workers enjoyed our antics and I'm sure there are some who didn't. But when you put three girls on display (and for one of us quite literally - can you say hospital gown?), you have to deal with the consequences. They could have admitted her to a room, but, that blue sheet, indicating her lack of private health insurance was our ticket to make the most out of a bad situation.
A few lessons learned:
1. ALWAYS maintain health insurance - no matter what. Eat Raman noodles and water, but, carry health insurance.
2. Don't talk on your cell phone and drive through red lights.
3. Always wear good underwear - you never know when two hot paramedics might have to cut them off.
4. Chili cheese Fritos are the bomb. Likewise for habenero Doritos.
5. Don't take things for granted because it can be taken from you at any minute. Live it up. Carpe diem.
6. Morphine works wonders for pain.
posted by Rach2LA @ 5:16 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home