Rescue 911

I don't know why, but I loved that show as a kid. Being a lifeguard took care of most of that fascination. Yesterday took care of the rest.

1 fainting lady + 1 911 call = 6 very friendly EMTs.

These nice guys took my vitals and everything seemed ok, so they had me sign a paper saying I didn't want to go to the hospital. Since I had been about to swipe my card when all of this happened, they said it must have been divine intervention. I sent them on their way and then tried to stand up.

I couldn't. They came back. I called Noah to get me and asked if I could have a picture with them, and they said they'd do it if I sat on the stretcher.

Poor Tisha. The one to find Marcus's diarrhea (on her shirt!), the one to reach for the bag (see it under my leg?) that I asked to puke in right before my head hit the floor (don't worry-- the bag is empty). Um, welcome to the neighborhood... Just be glad it wasn't you who was with me.

Can you tell where we were?

Noah and I spent the rest of the day/some of the night in the ER and everything seemed fine. Noah kept me entertained by colorfully answering my question, "What would happen next if this were a novela?" and trying to turn on the tv. (Why do they even put those in there if you can't watch them??) The doctor diagnosed me with "unexplained fainting" and prescribed a bunch of medicine for symptoms that are already fading. I think I'll pass (just pass, not out). Noah said he didn't seem very smart, but I just didn't like that he didn't laugh at any of my jokes.