Friday, August 18, 2017

E.R. Visit Almost Killed Me


Going to a hospital's emergency room is supposed to help a person, right?

I mean...really...the whole "first, do no harm" opening phrase of the Hippocratic Oath applies in the E.R., doesn't it?

I have to ask, because I took Beloved to our local emergency room last month and I almost didn't walk out alive.


The catalyst for the visit was Beloved's right eye that had declared war on her. Could have been an abrasion from trying to get a foreign object out (those durn foreigners!). Could have been a viral infection like what causes cold sores. For all anybody knows, it could have been a Communist plot to influence the next election.

Whatever the cause, I was there solely for moral and transportational support. I shouldn't have been in any danger.

Shouldn't have been...however...

I almost had an aneurysm as my brain tried to sort itself out from a series of loops and spins because of a single statement made by the resident eye doctor: "I usually mispronounce things wrong."



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