She'd walked to the hospital and back, even though we'd talked about taking a cab and so I'd gotten up early enough to call it for her. She doesn't much enjoy dialing the ten digits it takes to dial a Boston number. But she was well enough to hike down and up Beacon Hill, but she didn't feel like doing it yet again; and she must have been a little nervous, given what they'd told her. So I called a cab and we went back to MGH together. I sat in the ER waiting room for an hour with her. We were shuffled from the blood pressure/heart rate station to the insurance station via the waiting room. According to the first to blood pressure readings she was dead. And they call this medical science? She was and is far from dead - rather sprightly in fact. Indeed, her problem requires that she keep her blood pressure below ehat it generally is. So it was good to see the bugs in medical hardware. Reminds me that I work for a hospital too.
After an hour she got to get on a gurney. Wheeh! What fun! A too skinny bed on wheels. Then they started taking blood. Ick. No fun for her, less fun for squeamish me. She took it quite in stride actually. They had a little trouble, spilled some blood, and her reaction was -Ew, I made a mess! My reaction was less stoic. They found a bay for her. I believe that really was their term. Like she was a car in for mechanical troubles: into the bay with her! I staid for a bit, but I was getting hungry and they wanted to disrobe her. So I bid farewell for the moment and headed over to the Quincy Market area.