A Night in the Emergency Room

Many of you have expressed concern over my teaser about having to take a little trip to the ER last week, so I thought I would end the suspense and dish about it.

There are two things I should make clear before we begin. The first is that L. is always in the Emergency Room. Not to say that each time he goes I worry less (I freak out every time) or that it's less serious (they've all been adverse things in their own ways), but that boy has a penchant for getting himself hurt/getting into accidents/getting sick. That last one isn't really his fault, since he got mono two years ago and it's been unmercifully usurping his immune system ever since, but the guy basically just has me worried all the time.

This particular time came on the heels of a severe ear infection he got a couple weeks ago. "Why, Michelle, I didn't even know you could get ear infections past toddlerhood?" you ask me. Good question. (He's going to hate me for this.) I think the reason people tend not to get ear infections as they get older is because they know to blow the yuckies out of their nose rather than sniffle them all up to clog and infect their sinuses, but my L. didn't really take heed of that knowledge. Thus, ear infection.

Anyways, so a few weeks ago he went in for that, so I was worried, but I was a dutiful girlfriend, and put his drops in his ear at night, and secretly thought to myself, "well, that takes care of L.'s ER quota for awhile, so smooth sailing from here."

Well, smooth sailing was not what we got. L. was at rehearsal last Wednesday night, which was actually his last tech rehearsal before the show, Twelfth Night (he was Toby Belch) went up on Thursday. During the middle of his rehearsal, I get a call from our friend, who was playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek. So we'll just call him Sir A.

Sir A calls. Nonplussed, I answer the phone.

"Hey Michelle," says Sir A. "So, um, L. had an accident and hurt his head, and they're bringing him to the Emergency Room in the ambulance. I thought you might want to go over there and meet them."

I couldn't tell if Sir A. was trying to downplay the situation to make me feel better, or trying to conceal how bad it really was, but I said I'd go right away and immediately got a little shaky and dizzy. Head injuries scare me so, so much. I know that what happened to Natasha Richardson was a freak occurrence, but there's still a lot to be said for not underestimating the seriousness of a head injury. Apparently in one scene L. was supposed to do a backwards somersault, and instead of landing on his shoulders, he landed smack dab on his head. Hard. So I ran to my car and drove to the hospital, realized I didn't know where the hospital was though I've been there (for my own head injury! Strange, huh?), called C. and she told me, and finally arrived in the ER and asked to see L.

First, the nurse told me they didn't have anyone by L.'s last name there. I was starting to get really upset with her when she finally found him in the system but said I couldn't go in yet since he was being "evaluated." Ten minutes later, he went in for a CAT scan. By then, I was more than freaking out. When I went to the hospital for my concussion two years ago, all I did was sit in a little room and drink some cranberry juice and eat some graham crackers. So the fact that they were taking him in for a CAT scan really worried me.

Two of L.'s other castmates and his director showed up and waited with me, and finally the nurse came out and said we could see L., but not all at once. (I guess it was kind of funny to see all those people waiting for him.) So his director and I went in, and he was sitting up in bed, being silly and making jokes, and except for some very dilated pupils and a big bump on his head he seemed okay. In fact, he was even still in his costume for the play, which added another layer of relief/humor to the whole thing. His CAT scan showed there was no swelling in his brain, thankfully, so a few hours later they said he could go home. He definitely had a concussion, they said, but he could sleep through the night. I made sure he got some food and got him to bed, and though this is incredibly melodramatic of me was really thankful he woke up easily in the morning.

At least I can say my boyfriend always keeps me on my feet?