I spent the night at the emergency room with Becka.
Wow, that sounds really bad. It wasn't, really. Other than the whole worrying and waiting and costing lots of money details, of course.
I was supposed to pick up my daughter when she got off at work at 10. Except that her boss decided to keep her until 11. And somehow during the day (or the night before, since it was apparently hurting since early morning) she hurt her arm, bad enough that it was swollen and bruised and she couldn't move her wrist or fingers.
When she did get off, we went over to the emergency room to have it x-rayed. After a short wait, we found out we were at the wrong emergency room; apparently 17-year-olds still have to go to the pediatric emergency. So we moved to the next building, and waited. And waited. And waited. And did I mention that we had to wait.
Naturally, this was the one time that I didn't grab extra knitting before I left the house.
When they finally took the x-rays, it was decided that she only had a severe sprain. They prescribed a couple of Tylenols, and gave her a splint to keep it from getting worse.
So it could have been a lot worse.
But it would have been a lot better if I had remembered to grab my knitting.
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