Saturday, August 28, 2010
Update No. 1: I talked to Mike on the phone today. I wanted to apologize for dragging him into all the drama of last night; he wanted to make sure I was OK. He told me the medical nurse said she was thankful I’d “had the sense” to call for help. “You should sleep better tonight,” he said.
Update No. 2: I called the hospital today and learned my new friend had been admitted. I dialed his extension and asked the man who answered whether I had the right room. “Speaking,” he said. (!!!) I was thrilled. He said he had had severe pains, but they had eased. A stress test was scheduled and, in the meantime, he was trying to talk the hospital staff into “a shot of Irish whiskey.” Now that sounds like progress. (And not a bad way to ensure a good night's sleep, now that I think about it.)
Update No. 1: I talked to Mike on the phone today. I wanted to apologize for dragging him into all the drama of last night; he wanted to make sure I was OK. He told me the medical nurse said she was thankful I’d “had the sense” to call for help. “You should sleep better tonight,” he said.
Update No. 2: I called the hospital today and learned my new friend had been admitted. I dialed his extension and asked the man who answered whether I had the right room. “Speaking,” he said. (!!!) I was thrilled. He said he had had severe pains, but they had eased. A stress test was scheduled and, in the meantime, he was trying to talk the hospital staff into “a shot of Irish whiskey.” Now that sounds like progress. (And not a bad way to ensure a good night's sleep, now that I think about it.)