  Namely because you have to spend so much freaking time in them. I have a long story to tell today, not a very funny one either. I spent 6 hours in the hospital this morning. It all started Saturday The day I slammed my finger in the cash register while working. It didn't hurt then, but boy did it all go down hill from there. Sunday I was fine, everything was all good, ya know?? What came Monday morning totally threw me off guard. I woke up, and I noticed that my finger was really tender, it continued to bother me the entire day. I threw a bandaid on it thinking- it's just a cut or whatever, It'll be ok by tomorrow. I couldn't have been more wrong, by 9:00 a red mark was traveling down my finger. I washed my finger off, put some antibiotic cream on it, and loosely wrapped a different bandaid around it. By 9:45 my finger was twice the size of my other ones. Needless to say- I was a little worried.
I called my mom and she told me to hang out until she got home. I iced my finger to reduce the swelling, but that wasn't working either, and a red mark was streaking all the way up my arm. At 11:00 I called my mom again and told her it was getting serious. She called back twenty minutes later and told me to get ready- we were going to the hospital.
The emergency ward was packed There were people there with much worse stuff than I had. We checked in, got checked on, then were directed to the seats by 12:20. We waited in the waiting room until 2:00. During that time there was this one lady who was coughing really really badly. Finally they took her back, and came out and taped up the bench she was sitting on. I was a little nervous by then, but we got to the back soon.
Within 20 mins the doctor had come to see me. She didn't take two seconds to diagnose- Cellulitous, extreme inflammation of the skin caused by bacteria. She told me that she was going to be giving me a huge dose of antibiotics, intravenously. I was like ok, this shouldn't be too bad. Wrong, again. The first nurse came in to stick me and start the drip, she tried me 2 times and failed both. One stick left a hellishly huge bruise on my right forearm. The next nurse came in, and he stuck me 2 more times without any luck at all. By this time I just wanna go home. The next guy comes in and stick me once with no luck, and then stuck me the 2nd time and it was in. I was so happy- I thanked him a million times. I laid back and talked to my mom while the drip dripped. about 20mins into the drip, some nurses came in and started stocking the cabinets and drawers. They were fooling around, throwing stuff and all.
They ran into my drip three times, each time they did I flinched and winced to let them know how uncomfortable that made me. They laughed. They weren't stuck six times. After they left I lost it- I started crying. My mom was like "Meghan, whats wrong?? " I just wanted to go home and sleep. The drip took and hour and forty-five minutes. Me and my mom were getting kinda loopy towards the end... what from lack of sleep and all.
I started singing Christmas songs and she danced around the room (this was while the curtain was drawn around the room of course.). During the last ten minutes it was a race between the drip and my bladder- I had to pee sooo badly. Once it was done the nurse came in and took the Iv thing out and I ran(which was more like a shuffle of the feet) to the bathroom. Finally we left the hospital. And I was really worried about my mom. She had gotten like no sleep, and I could tell she was ready to pass out.
We stopped for breakfast at an all night place and went home. On the way home I remember hearing the weirdest Christmas song.... it was to the beat of "macho, macho man" except it was like... "I want to beee like santa, santa claus". And then we got home and I went to sleep. I woke up later and here I am. My finger is still swollen, and the red mark is still there. But I'm ok. 
