Screwing up

Today has been a funny weekend full of 'Attaboys' cancelled out by one big 'Ohshit'. The 'Attaboys' were earned first thing Sunday morning when a pain wracked call from out of the blue sent both Mrs S and I riding to the rescue of an old family friend. Rides to hospital were organised and I spent most of my day hanging around Emergency, trying to be useful and keep out from under people's feet. This is not easy when the focus of your efforts is less than cooperative. However, we coped and ensured that people got what they needed and were comfortable. Family friend was admitted and put on Morphine.

The funny thing was that our family friend wouldn't call an Ambulance because they 'didn't want to make a fuss'. Yet obvious pain and lack of mobility almost meant we couldn't get our suffering friend into the van to get to Emergency. Regardless, we got them there and tried not to impersonate headless chickens in the process.

Quite impressed with all the technology in the local hospitals Emergency Room. Mobile Ultrasound units, very professional and businesslike staff, and in the five hours we were there never saw anyone wait more than fifteen minutes before getting attention. A sign at Registration about non-Canadian residents having to shell out $535 for treatment made me pause, as did a note about extra treatment charges to Quebeckers.

Everyone seemed to take all these complications in their stride and the thing that struck me was how reasonably good humoured both patients and staff seemed given the habitual background tension of Emergency Rooms everywhere. Even the Paramedics appeared laid back. Like a tensioned velvet covered spring.

We were doing well until a(nother) run in with a cell phone company and their lack of customer service left me fractious and upset. My best course of action of course would have been to take an hour to get myself properly fed and rested as I hadn't eaten all day, and maybe taken a break from worrying. Regrettably I did not follow my own internal advice and made some ill chosen remarks in the hearing of my other half. Mrs S was not amused. It graduated into a row. She walked out.

We have since spoken and I have apologised for my uncharacteristic ill humour pleading tiredness and low blood sugar. The matter is not fully resolved, but discussions between Mrs S and I will make it so. I have screwed up. Amends must be made.

Now it's raining. So much for a pleasant Labour Day weekend. Sometimes being a grown up truly sucks.