Tami had surgery. I took her to Cedars at 5:00am for her 7:15am surgery. I left briefly to shower and grab something to eat, then sat my arse in the 8th floor lobby for 8 hours. There was free coffee and a convenient restroom, and after 12:00, entertainment.
Two funny old volunteers, who declined to be photographed, named Bud and Shelly were manning the front desk. Shelly had his dog, Isis, with him. She's a therapy dog and had her own name tag. It was too cute. Isis is a white standard poodle. Bud and Shel were like the old men in the balcony on The Muppet Show. Sample conversations:
Shel: I wonder how many people are in emergency today (looking on the computer)
Bud: Dascha said it was slow.
Shel: Dascha? That oracle? You'd believe her? The computer says 176.
Bud: Well, that's kind of slow.
Shel: Ah, you don't know from slow.
At 5:30, Tami's doctor finally came out and told me she was still alive and in the ICU overnight. Good. I'm going home to eat, sleep and block this scarf.
Tami got kicked out of ICU for screaming at the nurse. To be fair, the nurse did seem a little incompetent, but still...
She's all doped up and full of tubing. We spent an hour straightening her hair on Thursday night so it wouldn't get so matted this time around, only to have it go right back to curly from the sweat and whatnot. (Those are tubes coming out of her in this artist's rendition of Tami, as photographing her would result in my immediate death)
I got a new phone, with camera, so I can now surrepticiously photograph freaks without fear of an ass-whoopin'.
Later...Note to self: Don't drink with Tina when she has her camera. You will end up exposing your bosom for all the world, not to mention all the men at Dimples. Not that I mind, really, as my bosom is ample and needs to be shared with the world. Several karaoke mishaps, a girl-on-girl kiss, and six or more drinks later, we ended up at Bob's Big Boy, where Tina did this (see right photo) and Gary (the future Mr. Tina) did this (left photo--it's balancing on two grains of salt)
Watched the Super Bowl at the hospital with Tami. Since she was hopped up on the goofballs, it was not exactly exciting. I got kind of choked up during the MVP acknowledgements. I remember all those guys from when I was a kid. Speaking of kids...Harrison Ford, you're not one. Lose the earring. Oh, and Mick Jagger, lift more weights. You arm flab was waving like a Union Jack in gale force winds.
Sure, when I fail a speed test, they correct it right away, but when I pass and want to move up to the next level, well, it just sits and sits. CORRECT MY FREAKIN' TEST ALREADY. (sigh) All better now.
Tami is still cranky and sore, but she's got the strength to text message so she must be feeling better. Cedars-Sinai being a mecca for ailing celebrities, I find this sign in the elevators very amusing.
I'm a rebel. Yep, I rode up and down until I was alone in the elevator to take this shot...with my camera, not my phone!