Hey all! So we're 9 days into July, and I still haven't posted anything. That's because nothing has happened to me. Well, a few things have. I went to the ER for one. Here we go:
The ER story
Remember when I got hit by a car right before I went to England? I can't remember if I posted about the specifics, but to make a long story short, they weren't going fast, they didn't see me on my bike, but the car bumper took me out at the knee, I slammed my leg into my bike, both me and the bike fell down and it was a big scene. Somehow I managed to scratch up my leg through my jeans, through my boots, without actually damaging either of the latter. Had a big bruise, thought I was good to go.
Anyway, my leg still hasn't healed from that. Two nights ago, my leg started hurting like a mother for no reason at all, and after a couple hours and some urging from my mother, I was like "AGBHRG fine I will go to the emergency room." So I did.
Here's a couple things about the emergency room that probably shouldn't be the case:
--It's not marked. At every hospital I've ever been to ever, the ER is marked in foot high letters, bright yellow, with crap tons of arrows pointing exactly where you need to go, because everyone knows the suckiest thing to do when you're having an emergency is to spent twenty minutes wandering around the hospital grounds looking for the goddamn ER, somehow winding up in a giant stand of trees, hiking up a hill, and finally giving up and asking some guy on duty in the pediatric oncology ward for directions, which is when we found out...
--You have to take an elevator to the emergency room. Because it's not even on the ground floor. So what I want to know is, how do they get people there if, say, they're on a stretcher? And/or have impaled themselves on 12-feet metal tubing like I saw one time on Ripley's Believe it or Not? Because those guys wouldn't fit on in the elevator, it's a pretty small elevator. Do those people have to take the stairs? Do they make car crash victims and/or people impaled on things take the stairs? I'm assuming there must be some secret mafia entrance we never found for car crash victim on stretchers and/or people on Ripley's Believe it or Not.
--When you finally do get there the lady who checks you in is an epic bitch. We watched her yell at everyone who came through for various things, including at one family who missed their taxi because they were waiting for it inside the building. Their kid was in a wheelchair. Soulless, soulless lady. On the plus side, hey, no forms to fill out! And it's freeeeeee!
In other news, the two-hour wait to see the doctor was actually sort of entertaining. We saw guys suffering the side effects of mosquito bites (they itched), Botox (felt unpleasant), and a shard of glass through the hand (actually an emergency, but it's okay, he fit in the elevator). Also, there was a guy complaining his toes itched. And yes, he got seen before I did. Not a whole lot of pity in the ER when you go in a month and a half after you get hit by a car.
When I finally saw the doctor (who looked like he was my age), he told me he wanted me to get some X-rays because he suspected a piece of bone had peeled off my shin. As it turns out, the cause of my pain was an epically dire...bone bruise. And that was it. I have "fresh young legs," apparently, which under normal circumstances I would have taken as the winning pickup line from the Aperger Convention's Bi-Annual Awkward Contest, but "normal circumstances" generally do not extend to sitting in the ER with your leggings rolled up to your underwear.
The best part about the entire thing was that I got a prescription for, wait for it...ibuprofen. I didn't have the heart to tell the doctor I have not one, not two, but three bottles of ibuprofen sitting on my desk, because the fact that I need a prescription to buy it here offends me so I make a point every time I'm in the States to hit up Walgreens like I'm stockpiling for the apocalypse.
Moral of the story, when the apocalypse comes, I got yer ibuprofen right here.