2007-12-03 - 2:02 p.m.

Holy mackerel. Here's what I've come to understand: whenever you think you're successfully managing a whole heap of crazy-making obstacles, life will throw one more item into the equation. Friday night was spent at the ER. Erik suddenly came down with a completely random, horribly painful thing, and at 3:00 a.m. I realized, maybe this is the sort of situation where it's appropriate to rush to the ER? I wouldn't really know, having never elected to go to the ER for anything ever. After half an hour on the phone with our health care people, who informed us we could choose between two hospitals in the valley (I do not know the valley. There is a force field that prevents me from entering that region of the earth.), we were off to West Hills. Then, after four hours of fluorescent lights and Anita Baker, I was allowed into the recovery area to see my husband, doped up on morphine. My god, I hate hospitals. I hate seeing people I love in pain. I hate being faced with the fact that we won't all live forever. My heart knotted up, and I wished I could experience his pain, rather than see him lay there all glassy eyed, tubes in his arm.

Everything's OK. He's fine now. The weekend was spent convalescing. Soup was made. Tea was sipped. Movies were watched. And priorities were reexamined. I guess it's good to be reminded of your own fragility every once in a while. I guess. But it's so rattling.

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