So Monday, my brother, husband and I took my dad to the ER. Close to 2 hours later he was given a room. Unfortunately he had to share his room (I'm not really sure whether this is a good or bad thing, because if you're super serious, from what I saw, you have a room to yourself). My brother and I were the only two allowed back in the room with my dad, so Bob was lucky to evade the discussion on why the girl sharing the room with my dad was there*. Of course, even while we had to put up with her incessant talking we were slightly amused with making up theories on why she has had so many "domestic altercations" with men** and with my dad mouthing "Shut up."
After another hour or two, a doctor came in to check on my dad and sent him out for a couple xrays (he had pain in the area near his gall bladder). Several xrays, pokes and prodes later they determined that my dad had diverticulitis and was admitted to the hospital (it may have happened in reverse, my memory fails me).
Well, after being in the hospital all week, he was finally released this evening (hopefully his dog didn't go completely insane during his absense; she gets depressed when he's not around).
While I hate hanging out at the hospital, I feel as though I've learned a lot from these "adventures" this past year. The two biggest things I've learned:
* She had a "domestic altercation" with her ex-boyfriend and depending on which version of the story you believe, the one she told when she first arrived at the hospital or the one she told the cop 30 minutes later; either her ex, while they were fighting, slammed her against the car roof, or she slammed into the ceiling while trying to get away from him while hitting him with her heel.
** Her ex-husband broke her jaw about a year ago.