It has come to my attention that a trip to the Emergency Room is something akin to falling down a rabbit hole–it’s a whole other world. Over the weekend, my mum and I spent the morning/afternoon there with my grandmother. We’re becoming something of old hats, you see: as chauffeur, I drop the other two off and then attempt to find a parking spot within the same zip code. Mission accomplished, I saunter back in to find a seat furthest from the moaning and hacking. Alas, misery migrates. So, in a vain attempt to ignore kids run amok and the woman, obviously addicted to prescription meds, frantically wiping her brow, I bury my head in my phone, reading, until summoned back.
Where we wait some more.
This time, after waiting approximately 100 years, I suggested perhaps my mum would like to read, as well. No, thank you, says she. C’mon, it’ll be fun, says I. That’s when it hit me: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland may have very well been inspired by a trip to the ER. Change out a few names, and it could have been us:
[Debbie] was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her [mother in] the [ER], and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her [daughter] was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought [Debbie] ‘without pictures or conversation?’
The similarity disconcerting, I shut the ‘book’ and waited for the doctor to arrive.
Which he did. Eventually. And when he did, he proceeded to plaster is package (if you know what I mean and I think that you do) against the bed rail. Plastered, people! While I’d like to think I remained calm and collected, I’m fairly certain my eyeballs bulged right out of their sockets at the initial sight. We were eye level, after all. Then I was struck by an overwhelming urge to giggle–but surely, if anything would evoke Rule #42, tittering in the ER would be it. So, after a stern talking to myself, I willed my eyes upward and attempted to focus on what he was actually saying, nodding accordingly.
Apparently, my mum was doing the same.
Thank goodness he had nothing life threatening to convey, because I’m certain we faltered a time or two.
Then, just like that, we were once again in the real world, with nothing more to do than traipse off for tea . . . and maybe recount our adventures to a friend, or two.