Heather Dokken came down to see me yesterday, bearing San Pellegrinos and other treats. She told me a tale of spending time in the ICU and a neighbor had woke to discover the police and that his testicles had been shot off. It was a good story. The kind of tale that helps one realize that one's day isn't so bad.
On the heels of that story, I was inspired to have a pizza snuck in. Oh, sweet ambrosia of the gods! Why must we hide our relationship? Why can't I have pizza sauce on my face every day? Today, I asked if I could just once walk to the microwave, which is about 30 feet. They said yes, so I hid a slice of leftover pizza under chicken so the nurses didn't see. It was kind of like in prison, when you get drugs smuggled in, under the disguise of a bag of brownies. I'm really living on the edge.
Sarah Wood came by today to bring me some mags and a book called, "Are you there Vodka? It's me, Chelsea." She said I could go into labor from laughter. Oh, what a way to go!
Oh, did I forget to tell you that my grapes yesterday were moldy? Big news on the 3rd floor.
I got hooked up with http://www.facebook.com/ and http://www.skype.com/ and should have a camera for the live feeds by this weekend. This will ensure everyone is able to see me not moving on a 24/7 basis. Calm down! It's only a couple of days of waiting! Be patient! (That was my joke, 'cause I'm a patient.)
1 comment:
Erin, your writing talents are so great!
Of course, you do have a degree in journalism. I have always said you need to write a book. Now with this hospital adventure, I believe you should write a sitcom or create a reality show of "Living on the 3rd Floor." Thanks for sharing your adventures in such a creative way.
Tu Tu
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