SassyBlonde

There's just no two ways about it.

I. HATE. HOSPITALS.

Not in the normal, I-hope-I-never-have-to-stay-in-one way, but with an intense creeping horror and a strong OCD sort of go-out-of-my-way-to-avoid-them sort of violent aversion. As you might expect, every time I've been to one has been a pretty intensely unpleasant experience. Let's see... moving backwards:

• The last two times, watching my friend suffer through hours of a complex confusional migraine because either the doctors and nurses believed her and had no idea what to do or they acted like she was a total wack-job.
• I suppose the recent experience of going to see my cousin's baby wasn't technically the hospital's fault, but mental trauma ensued nonetheless. Don't ask. It's a family thing.
• Hmmm... the summer that I passed out at the theatre and the ER doctor assumed that it was my fault that Chick-Fil-A Guy gave me a regular lemonade instead of diet (this is one of the few cases where I can never tell the difference, and I used to work there. It's scary) and proceeded to lecture me on diabetic control because I keeled over with a BG over 700. (Ummm... hello, this should have been a clear indicator that I should have been on insulin. No amount of oral meds can control for that kind of reaction. It's a five minute process to test for Type I antibodies here guys.)
• I don't even have time to recount the nightmare that was my diabetes diagnosis trip. Asshole ER doctors, faulty stitches, and incompetent endocrinologists. &^#%@^*%$@(!
• Hold my friend's good hand as the doctor finished up a total of 219 stitches (the last ones were on her face) as a result of being pushed off of a landing onto a tile floor by way of a glass table during one of her husband's temper tantrums.
• Watching a friend get eaten alive by cancer all through middle school. (This is where the creeping horror comes from. I'll be honest. It was like a Steven King movie, I swear. *shudders*)

So here I sit in the ER again, waiting for doctors, waiting for nurses, waiting for relief, waiting for emancipation. Because no matter how much it makes me jump out of my skin, no one should have to sit in the hospital alone, and I love my friend. Think happy thoughts for her, okay?