Last night I partied it up with a pomegranate and three episodes of Grey's Anatomy. I love that show, but it scares me. Not the blood and guts part, even though that gets gross, but the fact that it is inevitable that everyone goes there at some point. Everyone sits in a hospital and begs for some doctor to save someone they love. I have been there once.
We had just had the kid in college, she was 6 weeks old and we got hit head-on by a drunk driver. I still don't remember exactly what happened, but I remember someone screaming a horrible scream, and then realized it was me. Mr. P couldn't move, and there was blood coming out of his ears, the baby seemed fine, but wasn't crying...shouldn't she have been crying? At the hospital, we were taken into different trauma rooms and after they took x-rays of my face and feet (yeah, I don't really remember why, just I remember those x-rays) they released me, but wouldn't or couldn't tell me about my family. Where was my husband? Where was my baby? After me freaking out at the desk, they sent a social worker, and they brought me the baby. Perfect. Carseats are a miracle. I went into every trauma room and finally found Mr. P. His nose was broken, his sternum separated, but other than that. Fine. The blood in his ears, not from his ears, from his nose. We left the hospital, together, sore, but whole. It won't always be that way, and that scares me.