My boyfriend is in the ICU. He had a blood vessel in his brain burst, and I had to take him to the hospital. Right now, I am a bit numb, as I just now got back from the hospital, nearly nine hours since I pulled up to the emergency room door.
I felt silly standing in the emergancy room lobby, holding a plastic tub as Eric vomitted into it, while two nurses prodded me about any pills he might have taken. I realized I didn't know his birthday, and then I was trying to get into the pocket of his rather tight jeans, trying not to laugh at how FUCKING ABSURD everything seemed. Of course, I was crying, and not laughing. I was all alone in a hospital while my boyfriend was being rushed off to be operated on. I really wanted to be with him, but they wouldn't let me see him until he had a CAT scan and such, and by that time my dad had arrived. I held Eric's hand and tried to talk to him, but I couldn't think of much to say.
I called two of his friends and got ahold of his father. There ended up being nearly twelve of us in the waiting room, playing cards and making up dialogue to the muted airing of Family Guy.
I got to see him again after surgery, and I cracked horrible jokes about how sexy he looks and how he'll have to try not to make a habit of this because he weighs more than I realized and I can't carry him by myself. I really hope that he's going to be alright. I'll write more about this when I'm more awake.
5:31 a.m. - Wednesday, Feb. 18, 2004
Recent entries:
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