Midnight is a pretty good time to visit the emergency room. It's a lot better than any day-time hour. There are fewer people milling about or seated in the foyer and the roads getting to the hospital are pretty clear too. So upon arrival, it was just a matter of a couple of minutes before I was ushered back to the inner workings of the emergency room.
The last time I was there was about a year ago...January or February. These things always happen to me in the winter time. Almost every surgery or major illness or hospitalization I've ever had has always happened in the winter. That might be one reason I dislike winter so much. Just the thought of that approaching season brings on a darkness and dread. Or could it be the darkness and dread that bring on the illnesses?...vicious circle.
Unlike my last visit to the ER, this time a problem was found, treated quickly, prescription given and I was on my way. But not before I once again had a little time to sit and listen to the sounds and horrors of the place.
First of all, there was an incessant beeping that went off every ten seconds. Between the beeps I heard what was going on in the room next to mine. "Okay sir, we're going to apply some Lydacream (a numbing agent)to the contusion and wait ten minutes." (I know about Lydacream because Roger uses it for dialysis. And I know that it takes at least an hour for it to numb an area. Ten minutes is no where near enough time!) After ten minutes of beeps and conversation from the nurses station across the hall, I was again alerted to the pending drama in the room next door. "Okay, sir...are you doing alright?" What I then heard was something I never hope to hear again...a grown man screaming in extreme agony and pain. It wasn't as loud as it could have been because he kept his mouth closed. But it was screaming and it went on for about a minute while the doctor did whatever he was doing.(maybe cleaning out a wound) "Okay, sir...we're finished messing with you now," were welcome words and but the screaming didn't entirely cease. It gradually tapered off and faded out with a series of whimpers.
Once again, I felt very fortunate to be walking down the hall headed for the double doors that led to the foyer and to home and to bed, where everyone belongs at 2:30 in the morning.
