Who blogs at 1 a.m.? Oh, that's right: I do. After a lengthy ER visit last night that kept me up half the night, my sleep schedule is seriously warped. Hopefully I'll be able to remedy this over the weekend and get back on track. But here we are in the wee hours of the morning, and I'm still wide awake. My eyes are like this: OO. Ah, well.
So speaking of that ER visit, boy, was that fun. I guess it's the most interesting thing that's happened to me in the last few days, so I might as well tell you all about it. I'll preface this by saying that if you don't absolutely have to go to Eastern Maine Medical Center, do everything in your power to avoid it. Yes, like the plague (especially because that would definitely require a lengthy stay at EMMC, and you'd still have to spend 15 hours in the waiting room). Don't get me wrong: all of the doctors and nurses are nice and perfectly competent, but it's just that the hospital lobby is not a very pleasant place to spend half of the night. Between the man who was retching into a basin on his lap on our last visit and the oh-so-rebellious and angst-filled (and probably heroin-filled) teenager who was screaming and cursing into the waiting room phone (and who actually ripped the phone off the wall) on this visit, well, let's just say that I can think of plenty of other people who I'd rather spend an evening with. But alas, I didn't really have much of a choice but to go, because apparently, chest pains and crazy heart palpitations are not something you can just ignore. (Believe me, I tried!) Sigh. So two EKGs, four chest X-rays, one needle and many hours of my life that I can never get back later, they sent me home with the thrilling news that a) The blood test to look for clots in my lungs came back high (but hey! I'm young, so I'll be fine, right?) and b) I have to get a heart monitor. Hopefully it'll just be temporary. I'm not sure yet whether it'll be the lovely 24-hour type that means that I'll have wires glued all over my body or if it'll be the even better monthlong type that needs to be lugged around in a heavy plastic box. Sigh.
Ummmm.... don't listen to me. I'm obviously just really dramatic.
...Wait, no, I take that back. Listen to me! (After all, this is my blog. You can't just leave. Um, besides, all of the doors have been locked, and you are now confined to this nutshell. Sorry.)
Well, if I ever wanted proof that I need to get on a better sleep schedule, I guess this is it. I promise I'll write something less weird soon. And not at 1 a.m., either.