A recent nonfatal, noncontagious but painful medical condition landed me in the emergency room on Monday morning. My boss cancelled all of her morning meetings and took me in a cab herself after I doubled-over in agony at my desk and then vomited in the bathroom. How great is she? My parents are sending her flowers.
A CT scan revealed the cause of my discomfort over the past week and a half (resulting in four used sick days last week, two used in this one and constant comments over the weekend to my friends in New Haven about my cramps), and now that I have been assured that I am not dying, I'm concentrating on recovery.
My first NYC ER experience was fairly comfortable at St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital. I particularly enjoyed being run back and forth through the giant donut while the mysterious voice on an intercom commanded over and over, "Take a deep breath in and hold it ... You may breathe normally."
I also have to thank BNR - our Brooklyn-based blogger buddy/registered nurse, from whom I often seek informal medical advice - for his comforting text messages throughout my ER ordeal. We agreed that we should take Contrast and Sterile Water for Irrigation USP to a bar, spike our happy hour-blogger buddies' drinks and turn on a black light.
It tasted like a combination of club soda and something bad.
I was bored waiting for my insides to begin glowing for the CT scan.
So I took pictures of things with my phone*.
*BNR also confirmed that cell phone signals tampering with hospital equipment is urban lengend.
Update: I'm going to live.