The best part of the emergency room was my radiologist, who was so earnestly strange, that it made me feel like a Lynchian dream sequence. He had a limp, said everything twice like a bad rap ("Donotmove/Do. Not. Move") and was wearing a lab coat with his name on it, making jokes I did not understand as jokes. He presided over nine neck xrays, then dissappeared for a while. I lay there, staring into the machine above me, which was like a big Cuisinart with a light on the bottom, he comes back "We must do it again. In the processor, three of your xrays landed on top of one another. All together. Like the 3 Little Bears," he adjusts the light and leans in to adjust me "I figured out who the villian is in that story. Little Red Riding Hood." Despite being in a concussion fog, I was all "huh?!" -- "Little Red Riding Hood. She ate all their porridge." He leans over me adjusting the light, and I think, the only time anyone gets this close to my face, it's because they are going to kiss me. I countered "Little Red Riding hood is one of the protagonists, not the villian." Then I kind of passed out.
I got in a car accident. A man in a gray Caprice Classic hit me head on, while he was pulling some extreme traffic move on Western. The worst part, really the worst, worse than my car being possibly totalled, is that when it happened, I was on the phone with my Nana. My 86 year old Nana, telling her I was coming to visit soon. And then I was screaming and apologizing and had to hang up on her because there was an airbag close enough to kiss, and my car was filling with smoke. I hung up on my Nana, stepped outside the car and passed out on the blacktop, in traffic. A nice homeless dude came to my aid, and got me to the curb.
Then there was the police and the police made me go in the ambulance. I called Miles and JR and Matt and told them where the ambulance was going and why. And then I was on the gurnee and they put a catheter in the back of my hand and things on my fingers and a thing that made a velcro sound around my neck and strapped me down. And I felt asleep, but I woke up when we were going into the ER, rolling rolling under the lights and I thought of Bushwick Bill on the cover of Geto Boys We Can't Be Stopped and wished I had my camera, to preserve this moment for my eventual solo album.
Then I woke up and Miles and JR were standing there leaning over me saying "Hi buddy" and the look on JR's face almost made me cry. I explained that I am all strapped down and given the special collar until I get done with all the xrays and the CT scan to make sure-make sure, but that they think I am fine, just a concussion and smoke inhalation and whiplash. Matt was ready to fly home from tour if anything was wrong, if they were going to keep me at the hospital. I am fine I said. I just wanna get home so I can see Spoon on Letterman I said. I am tough, but it sure is nice to have such nice friends who love you and come pet yr hand when yr hurt.
Never been in an ambulance before. The cat scan was like an oscillating donut. Also never done that before. I had read about it's special hum on J Sheps blog, and I listened for it, and did not stare into the scan-ray as the sticker advised. I was laying there, forever, after the xrays and scans, and I was watching my vitals on the monitor behind my head. Everytime Miles mentioned the "Urinebag" stationed next to him, my heart rate went up. We played a little game to see how high we could spike my heart rate. 127 on Urinebag alone.
We left the hospital, finally, after about 4 hours maybe, and got a cab home. I looked so fucked up, I made Miles take my picture first thing. I still had all the little snap-attach sticker things that they hook up the stats machine to you with and my face was puffy and I had blood running all over my hand from when they took the shunt out and I am wearing a purple tank top with a pony on it and I look totally janky and beat. Can't be stopped!Posted by Jessica at September 1, 2005 09:45 PM | TrackBack