'Shindig'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
and I totally believe that coming to the hospital was the right thing to do. 100%.Very much so.
Can you get some food at least? It might help.
Yikes! I am molting. Guess that sunburn from two weeks ago that I thought might not peel, it's peeling. It's like being a lizard.
Aw, Teppy.
I'm sorry, Tep. Are you obliged to keep him company all day? I sure wouldn't expect that of my kids.
But at least it doesn't sound so dangerous this time.
I'm sorry, Tep. Are you obliged to keep him company all day?
Well, I drove him up here, and until we know if they're going to release him or keep him, I can't go anywhere. I'm 20-25 minutes away from my apartment, so I can't just zip home and zip back (there's an excellent heart hospital 5 minutes from my apartment, and I couldn't talk him into going there; I know it was selfish of me to try, but now I'm just stuck here and I'm starving and I'm so fucking tired and my back hurts and I really really just want to cry and I can't).
Oh, sweetheart. I wish I could help.
Let's hear it for hospitals with free wireless
Wow, I had no idea hospitals would have that. Huh.
Cautious yay for it probably not being a heart attack, but definitely sounds like a good idea to take him to the ER in any case! Here's hoping he gets let go soon so you can go get shit done!!
Erika, these boys would've been cute on two legs or with wheels. The bulging upper arms helped, though. :)
Don't they have a place to get food? Feed yourself, it'll help a LOT. Ask your dad if you can get him anything if he's not good about having you leave.
I know... my interest in wheelchair sports was kind of voyeuristic. Maybe that's why I wasn't good.
Dad shooed me out the door to get a sandwich.
The cafeteria -- I am not making this up to get sympathy -- is closed.
You haven't lived until you've witnessed me completely losing my shit in a public place. No, really. I saw the "cafeteria closed" sign and just started bawling. And then I ran for a bathroom so I could bawl in privacy. And then I found a vending area and I'm eating a $1 tuna sandwich that is, I suspect, not actually tuna but actually glue.
Did I mention I'm exhausted? And that my left knee is all swollen and bruised because I....kind of....fell down some stairs last night? And that complaining about that to Dad is not an option because (1) you feel bad complaining when he could be having heart attack #5, and (2) I absolutely refuse to get into an explanation of *how* I got my boo-boo.
Which -- I had a great long story about last night to post here, and now I'm crying on a nasty glue-tuna sandwich. And my back hurts. And I need to do laundry and get groceries and I hate being Dad's support when I don't have anyone to support *me.* It sucks. A lot.
Sorry to hear it Steph. So how did you get the boo-boo? I figure any story you don't want to tell dad, you should tell us.
Paul Newman? Still hot. Damn.