Monday we took Manny, my sister, to the emergency room. She was in excruciating pain, hadn't been able to hold food down, and had a fever.

For those of you who may not know, emergency rooms are teaming with sick people. Every kind of sick. From the bleeders, to hock and hackers, to my personal least favorite..... the wheel chaired, bucket carriers. Here's a tip: If you are sitting in the emergency room waiting your turn and some one is wheeled in sporting a bucket on their lap......MOVE! Go as far as you can.

After 2 and half hours of waiting we were finally called back. The emergency room is divided into two categories. Much like baseball. You have your majors and your minors. Manny, because she has kidney disease, was in the majors. Understand ...... this does not mean if her kidney was running around on the worn out carpet threatening sick people with a urine-filled sub-machine gun that she would get in any quicker.

Being the blogger extraordinare I am ..... I just happened to have my camera. The first thing Manny had to do after changing into a backless gown was produce a urine sample. This proved to be an impossible task. What you see here is me listening at the door for any sound of urination, while Manny. hidden inside, calls out....."You're not standing right outside the door, are you?" Eventually my feet began to hurt and I started making water noises, hoping to speed things along. Still ...... nothing. One male nurse suggested she squeeze real hard.
Just before they came in to start a barrage of tests Bob happened to notice the dead clock on the wall. "That's a bad sign," he said to no one in particular. "oh no," Manny groaned.
The first blood guy came in and as he leaned down to draw what looked like a quart of blood Manny very seriously told him, "I can smell that alcohol."
"You mean the stuff I cleaned your arm with?" he asked innocently.
"No, the stuff you drank last night." Sadly, making him laugh wasn't a good plan because the blood catching tube came loose and Manny's blood spilled out all over the bed and floor. Manny hates the sight of blood. Especially hers.

When the second fella came in to take more specific blood samples (don't ask me. blood is blood far as I'm concerned) Manny who's pain had become more intense began telling this poor guy that she had a living will and her sisters were allowed to pull her plug.
"What plug?" I asked playing with the setting on my camera.
"The life support plug! Squirrel has 1st dibs, you're second, and I put Bob in there just in case you and squirrel wimp out."
"why does Squirrel get first dibs?"
"I DON'T KNOW. JUST BECAUSE! DOES IT MATTER?"
"Well, you don't have to get all testy about it. You don't even need Bob on there cause I'll unplug you. I'm a busy woman. I don't have time to sit around watching a sick person."
At this point the young man taking blood looked at Bob for reassurance. Bob nodded and simply said, "The whole family is crazy. You learn to live with it."

After another 3 hours of testing and Manny complaining about the fact that her underwear didn't match, (she was also wearing granny panties which she failed to mention but I noticed when she got up to try and give another urine sample and her gown flew open) a doctor came in with the verdict. Manny was being admitted for acute renal failure.

The past couple of days have been bad ones. Manny continues to be very ill and in pain. Though I must admit they are giving her some crackerjack pain meds. This morning Manny's kidney began to function at a more normal rate. It will be awhile before she's out of the woods but this is very good news. At last we are headed in the right direction.

Yesterday I told her she looks really good even though in truth she looked like a beached blow fish. Hopefully soon she won't be so puffy or we'll have to come up with a new blogger name for her. Puff Manny?

Labels: emergency rooms, granny pants, kidney, puffer fish, underwire bra