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.
Steph, it's a hospital. If I were going to choose a public, lit place to cry, I figure I could do it in a hospital. This is stressful.
kinda crazy out-of-control men are scary
Really? I say that half-facetiously, but I don't know if it holds up in fiction either. Not if we're talking the same sort of out-of-control as the women (who strike me as not much more than quirky with an optional side of self destructive, depending on the lesson we need to learn).
Ooh, now I want to hear the mysterious falling down story...
Also, who else votes that Teppy leave the hospital entirely and have something good to eat, even if it's just Panera or something?
