Today I received one of those scary calls at work that you dread getting–a loved one calling from the emergency room. Jenny was rear-ended on her way to work. Her car was totalled (the trunk no longer exists) and she was at the hospital. She’s fine, just sore. Luckily, after five hours of x-rays and tests, they let her go under her own power. After all that, she said in amazement, and all they prescribed was Advil and ice. We agreed–it could have been much worse. Very lucky indeed.
Now, Jen’s been in two car accidents prior to this; in one, where she was a passenger in a bus, she got a pretty bad case of whiplash. Both have left her with chronic back pain that only an aged old lady should know, so only time will tell how much more messed up her back will be after this.
Now the fun part begins, with the insurance forms and hassles galore. But that’s for another day. I’m just glad she okay.
Here’s an interesting hospital observation: While waiting for Jen to return from her CT, I was watching the desk in the middle of the emergency room, where all the nurses and doctors hang out, chatting and fiddling on computers. I was struck by how young they all looked! When I say young, I don’t mean 12 or anything, I mean my age and a bit younger. But doctors and medical professionals aren’t supposed to be my age, or younger(!!), they’re supposed to be older, with like twenty years of experience, right? It shouldn’t look like a fraternity mixer around the desk. It was weird. There were like twenty people buzzing around and they all looked so darn young. Or maybe I’m that old…