Oh and then there was the don't get blood on the papers thing. Which really annoyed the cops and firefighters and paramedics. I guess I couldn't deal with what all was going on that I couldn't control, so I focused on what I could. Like not letting Liz bleed on the papers.

Didn't work.

But was a good guilt trip on our math teacher. I thought he was going to cry.

Also discovered that if I ever again go to the ER, I'm a hellbitch under trauma stress. So I should preemptively apologize.

But was a good guilt trip on our math teacher. I thought he was going to cry.

How'd he fit in?

I'm a hellbitch under trauma stress. So I should preemptively apologize.

Heh, heh.

My one trip to the ER for myself actually ended up being a minor thing... sprained ankle, but it had swelled up so much that it scared the crap out of me. Anyway, the random thought I had while good looking doctor was examining the damage was, "Damn, I wish I'd shaved my legs more recently." And then when he told me, sort of oddly gleefully, that the swelling was blood from pulled things pooling, my thought was, "Ew, shut-up, shut-up, shut-up."

I got an "Oh My God!" from the first ER nurse to see my injury. Way to be reassuring.

The math teacher was the next day. We'd gone to Kinkos to insert the graphs into text (the old days.) I couldn't manage to work up the nerve to drive that exit again within 24 hours (even though I wasn't driving) so I brought in the paper and my sick sense of humor and asked him for an extension, since you couldn't read the last 3/4 page due to the bloodsoaked factor.

I was really mean to the ER people. Scary mean. And I wasn't even hurt, really. There was also some yelling about not understanding because of indian accents, which really shames me now.

The only one on your list I find kind of meh is Sean Bean, who looks too blandly handsome for me.

Huh.

Can't quite wrap my brain around that one because to me he's so the reverse of bland--too much masculine intensity.

Mmmm.

Hee. One of the few things I remember from breaking both arms at the same time as a kid is waiting in the ER for like, an hour before I even got taken to a exam room. I'd been kind of crying and moaning quietly while my frantic parents asked the nurse every few minutes whether a doctor could please look at their daughter. After the 15th time of being told that more serious cases would need to be seen before me (and hey, this was a small town in MO, not exactly streaming with GSW's) my dad kinda leaned over and grimly whispered, "Feel free to start screaming anytime" and I started yowling my head off.

I was in in two minutes. Turned out the nurse who'd given be a cursory look-see had said I'd had a sprained wrist, when I had both bones in each forearm fractured badly.

I got an "Oh My God!" from the first ER nurse to see my injury. Way to be reassuring.

Chuch Yeager once had to eject from an experimental aircraft, and he was badly burned during the ejection. The first person to get to him on the ground was a doctor. The doctor looked at Chuck and immediatly threw up.

When my dad woke up after landing on his head and sliding 6 feet on his face (car vs bike), first face was a cop who was one of his undergrads. Who promptly said "Dr. Lastname? Oh hell." and threw up.

My dad finds this very funny.

Am loving the sense of humor in the sarameg family.

We can be... quirky. And dark. Or, suitable for early elementary.