Demon Spawn and Rectal Exams
02/27/2003
8:00 p.m.
I've always been quite curious as to what it would be like to go to the emergency room. Y'know, the ambulance, the stretcher, the ER, the IV drip, the whole shebang (is that how you spell that word?). All I can say is: I'm glad I got that out of my system. Well, not really. That's a lie. That's not all I can say. I'm gonna give the whole story. I was in a car accident a week-and-a-half ago with Fortune Cookie. It wasn't his fault. Or my fault. But we both got a complimentary trip to the ER complete with neckbrace, backboard, and x-rays. Those things hurt, dude! Not the x-rays, silly. The neckbrace. Don't believe me? You try staying in one for about 12 hours and then we'll chat. Luckily, the backbrace was only for about 4 hours because those hurt even worse. After a while the only thing you feel is the back of your head pressing against cold metal because your forehead and chin are taped down to foam bricks and you can't move squat. Extremely uncomfortable. I was kept over for about a day because of fear of spinal damage. I had a big 'ole umbrella sittin' between my legs, and at the point of impact, it slammed me right in the sternum. That's "between the boobs" for you unedumacated. Cracked my sternum. It hurt like hell. I think I had this kinda romantic fantasy about being in the hospital. All flowy pink nightgown, room overstrewn with flowers and get well balloons, old "Young & the Restless" theme playing in the background (the plain piano and violin version). I would tragically raise the back of my hand to my forehead and whisper, "At least no one else was hurt." Then I would sigh and my eyelids would flutter closed, all the while my loved ones are standing around me sobbing and holding each other. *Snort* It ain't nuthin' like that. The nightgown of course gave a fantastic view of my Victoria's Secret underwear, I was wearing black socks pulled up to mid-calf, and half of my hair was sticking out of the neckbrace. I couldn't bend my right arm because of the IV sticking out of the inside of my elbow. My room was so tiny my mother and father could barely fit in there at the same time. I was prodded by about twelve different doctors, each coming in right after I had fallen asleep. And I was given a rectal exam. Let me pause for a moment while I shudder at the memories. This is the doctor's description of said rectal exam: "See, I'm gonna stick this here finger up your butt and then pull it out real fast." Oh, I am NOT kidding. At least I got two days off from work. And drugs. The good stuff, too. Can't beat that hydrocodone. Fortune Cookie doesn't want to take his. I'm trying to bribe him for it. On a less positive note: Fortune Cookie showed me his journal the day after the accident. His has the option of leaving notes for specific entries. His ex-girlfriend left the following note for his entry about the accident: "Uh. anticipate other drivers better? and quit hanging around that whore." I always knew she wasn't a nice person, but that's plain ugly. She has now earned the name Evil Demon Spawn.
***Please take a moment of silence for the passing of one of my childhood heroes: Mister Rogers. He was 74 years old. It will always be a beautiful day in the neighborhood.***
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� Lysistrata 2003-2004
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