Out of the ER, into Cos Cob

Figgy was finally discharged from the ER at 3:31 A.M., not that I was clock-watching or anything. I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. At about midnight, I left H. and Fig in cubicle 6 and walked across the street to the gas station for a 4-ounce bag of salty Party Mix, after the dumb vending machine in the ER waiting area rejected both coins and bills. I had to point to the chip bag through a glassed-in wall, and slide my dollar through the slot in the window, as if I were paying for something exciting like theater tickets, not a crunchy carb dose on a rough night. A night of flipping channels between Letterman, Leno and Jimmy Fallon.

After about 1:30, only one doctor on duty, and he had a lot to handle. By about 2:30, I rebelliously helped myself to the food in the fridge in the little Nutrition room, taking a lousy turkey sandwich without even checking first.

The ER got a little scary as Friday night wore into Saturday morning--a couple of very drunk men came in separately, one with fresh knife wounds on his face. It was not a pretty scene.

We were there 11+ hours. Finally got the CT scan results and they were good.

Safely @ Sis and Don's now. Thankful.

Speaking of my quietly brilliant sister, am proud to share a link to her published work, done with a team @ NYU: http://www.jbiomech.com/article/S0021-9290(11)00175-8/abstract. She just showed it to me now. It appeared in the Journal of Biomechanics. It's called Finite element analysis of heel pad with insoles. This kind of work is important for designing combat footwear and shoes for the general public too, says my Sis.

Now can you see how different we are? I write about beach houses and outlet shopping and Sis writes about pedal tissue trauma, after studying intricate details for months and months and months.

Yet we are still so close. I know Dad would be so happy that we are together now, and that Fig is OK.

Thank you, angels, garden fairies, God--whoever holds Fig's fate in hand.

TCOY

1. I was accessorized, with a crystal beaded belt over my black cap-sleeve tee. This made me feel good in the ER, and I could tell it made Fig feel good, too. At one point she was sliding some of the crystals into proper position.