In Which a Window Attacks My Head

I guess my forehead was jealous of my eye divot because after a glass or two of cranberry wine I decided to close up the house (A broken AC the last few days has made my house hotter than the hounds from hell dog house.). As I pushed down on the window to slide it shut a spring busted inside it sending the window flying open towards my face. The lock on it, in the open position of course, smacked me square in the middle of my forehead.

Stunned I slapped my hand to my forehead and stumbled up against my kitchen wall. The pain was like a ball bouncing around in my head. After a few moments I opened my eyes but I had to say aloud, "Are my eyes open?" No one answered me as H was gone on a work trip and the girls were asleep. I confirmed that yes, I was seeing the kitchen floor and I pulled my hand away from my forehead as I blinked back tears. Mmm... blood. All over my hand. I lurched to the bathroom almost afraid to see what was waiting for me in the mirror. Sure enough, blood was pouring from the middle of my forehead and I had a nice jagged gash. I began to sob. I dialed H and woke him up. He suggested calling my friend who immediately showed up on my front step. In minutes another friend was in my house to watch the girls as we drove to the ER. All I could think was, "Really!? Really face?! As if the eye-sore wasn't enough, now you want to go and Frankenstein me up with a slice to the noggin?" I had no idea though that the worst was yet to come. The dreaded middle of the night ER visit. Thankfully, I didn't have to go alone and walk in with the line, "So I had a few glasses of wine and then I hit my head..."

Our local hospital must be composed of the most archaic systems. You sign in on a loose sheet of paper that just gets put in a pile on the information desk. Yes, really. No one seems to think that computers are needed. It took two hours for my vitals to be checked. Head still bleeding. Another hour for them to register me into their system, all the while CNN was blaring up to the second status on the Swine Flu outbreak (coming to a town near you!). Sick babies cried around us and a woman threw up on her broken leg as she tossed a plastic yellow ball in the air. Umm.... yeah. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone or Outer Limits. When a kid walked in with a terrifically terrifying cough and was immediately masked I began to get worried. The fact that this four year-old then coughed up blood on the mask didn't seem to bother anyone made me wonder if I should just make a break for it and hope my head wouldn't gangrene at a later date.

At 3 a.m. (read: 4 1/2 hours later) I was brought into the actual ER and put on a bed in the hallway which was across from Room 16. I point that out because my hallway bed was labeled a precious 16A. For reals. At this point I was delirious with exhaustion and couldn't stop laughing at my predicament. It was then that I noticed that the staff stood around everywhere doing nothing and wouldn't make eye contact with us. Sure, they were laughing and joking and translating for people who brought babies in with minor colds. Grrr.... I'm not getting into the health care system but GAH!! My head still cut open was now burning, growing swollen and red. I felt defeated and frustrated. Finally, someone came by asked me what in tarnation I did to my cranium. Oh and "what's with the eye lady?" They told me I needed stitches and a tetanus shot. I have successfully avoided that shot through a web of carefully placed lies since the last one I got in Kindergarten. They stuck me before my addled brain could lie my way out of another one. After searching for some skin glue (no one on staff could remember where it was located anymore. I feared paper clips or a good ol'fashioned Swingline might be used instead.) A nurse glued me up and sent me on my way at long last.

All just in time for my neighbor who was watching my kids to go home and watch her own as her husband was leaving for work. Two hours later TD and The Comedian woke up ready to start the day. Thank God I have kick ass neighbors who don't even blink when someone calls for help.