thursday night is ER night

A friend once told me that I go to the emergency room more than anybody she knows. That may be true. I’ve been averaging about once a year for the past couple of years. I went again tonight (sort of), only this time it was for J.

This morning, as he ran into the office to check the fax machine, J stubbed his toes on a large, unpacked box parked right in front of the doorway. Brilliant. He yelped out in pain for about 10 seconds and then forgot about the whole thing, until we were walking around Williams-Sonoma nearly 8.5-hours later. Suddenly his toes hurt so badly that he was limping. When we got home and he took off his shoes, it was obvious that something was not right with the middle toe on his left foot. It swollen and purple. He iced it, and after researching “broken toes” online, decided that it was indeed most likely broken and that he should probably have it x-rayed. So we jumped back into the car and raced down to the urgent care center near where he works. It took us 25 minutes to get there, and then I had to sit for 45 minutes by myself in the waiting room, with nothing but CNN as entertainment. (Did Paris really get sprung from prison because of a rash?)

The diagnosis? His toe is probably not broken, just badly bruised, but a radiologist would have to confirm the x-ray reading tomorrow. In the meantime, he’s not supposed to run, should ice his toe several times a day, and can take a ludicrous amount of Motrin to ease the pain.

Another night lost to a medical emergency. And I was looking forward to chatting with LS on the phone!