We had planned to drive to Santa Barbara on Sunday for Nuala’s birthday party, but the Lad started having weird pains on Friday and by Saturday night he was admitted into the hospital with possible appendicitis. Happily, nothing had to be removed and on Monday he was released after two nights of hospital liquid meals, sort of the equivalent of turning your computer off and back on.
Had things gone well, I would have been blogging about Santa Barbara sunshine and too many raspberry mojitos, but instead you’re getting a blog about innards. On the other hand, I didn’t have to take two five-hour roadtrips in two days, I am not hungover, and the Lad is doing just fine. Still sucks for you, though.
I’m On The Bus! I’m On The Bus!
I take the #24/Divisidero through the Haight to the hospital. The bus is often full when I get on in the Castro, so the difficulty becomes judging who to hover over for a seat. Usually the seats are taken by an even mixture of sick people and hippies. The choice seems obvious: stand near a hippie and ensure myself a seat as soon as the bus stops at Haight & Divisidero, a known hippie hotspot. But there’s always the possibility that the hippie is sick and, like me, will be riding all the way to Kaiser. So the real trick is to judge which of the hippies will seek medical attention when incapacitated and which are more likely to go home to the Haight to try organic honey rubs and ear candling healing rituals, thus abandoning their seats sooner. (Note: I have nothing against ear candling. Some of my favorite bloggers have been known to ear candle. But for me to light something on fire and stick it in my ear, I’d have to be — well, there’s no end to that sentence. There is no way I would ever light something on fire and stick it in my ear. It’s just the way I was raised.)
Once I’ve got a seat I’m free to stare out the window. Usually, I see my friend Jen as I ride through the Haight. I’m not sure why I always notice her. I think it’s her love of turquoise clothing that makes her stand out. I considered developing my own signature color — hot pink? — but finally decided I don’t really care if my passing friends can recognize me on a street corner.
In The Hospital
You know, if I was hospitalized every time I had severe cramps, I’d never get out of there.
Here are the top five ways in which being hospitalized with possible appendicitis is like taking a roadtrip to Santa Barbara.
5. Someone is throwing up in the next room.
4. You’re not keen to tell your parents where you are or what’s going on.
3. Whether it’s nurses or co-eds, the girls aren’t as hot as pulp fiction novels from the 50’s would have you believe.
2. Shot glasses, dessert cups, whatever: jello is going to be involved somewhere.
And the number one way in which being hospitalized with possible appendicitis is like taking a roadtrip to Santa Barbara:
1. It isn’t.