Some things don't seem to change no matter how bad you want them to. I despise ERs and yet I spend a good portion of my time in them. My husband is the patient tonight. The nearest VA ER is three hours away. Chest pains and difficulty breathing. There was no physical exertion on his part today. He spent most of the day resting since he wasn't feeling well. He said he was "a little scared." That translates into full blown panic because my husband does not get scared about stuff like this. I do, but he doesn't. So, after a bit of pestering, I convinced him of the wisdom of going. Granted we had to stop at the top of the mountain to get online to google maps to find the place. Branson is a clinic. It doesn't have an ER. We had to go to Fayetteville.
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I must say, though, that from the bits that I have seen, this place is cleaner than Indy's VAMC. I felt bad because I couldn't rattle off all his meds like I normally am able to do. I'm foggy-brained from my own fever. I did make sure to mention the diabetes and the seizures.
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They also said I could have my laptop in here with my internet access card with no problems.
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So, right now, I am sitting here with my husband resting uncomfortably and listening to the guy in the next bed snore while waiting for the results of the lab work.
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Did I mention that I also started my period on the drive down and have nothing with me so I have had to improvise? Yeah. It's been a fun night.
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