And, yes, in one year she's managed all the following:
- one speeding ticket
- one trip to traffic court
- one round of traffic school
- two calls for roadside assistance for locking the keys in the car
- one call for roadside assistance for leaving the lights on, and killing the battery
- one totaled car (it was such a cheap car, it just took one fender bender to "total" it - no injuries- THANK GOD!)
- one hit-and-run (she was rear-ended in our *beautiful* '97 minivan), the guy ran, she (here's what kills my nerves) ran him down, and pinned him in a parking lot.
Apparently, my girl has ballz.
Given this information, you must understand my incessant need to always have my phone handy, right?
Well, the other night I get the phone call from her just as I sat to dinner with some high school friends. Some of us hadn't seen each other for over five years. Our water glasses had just been served. Only her voice on the line allowed me some room to breathe.
She states, "Mom? Okay, I'm just calling to let you know where things stand."
"I needed a study break, so I rode my skateboard around the block and fell pretty hard and bumped my head. I have a little bit of a headache. My butt really hurts.... and my phone took a bad hit."
"Okay, is that it?"
"Well, my vision in pretty blurry."
I practically had to verbally assault her to convince her a trip to the ER was necessary. To rush things along, I instructed her to have her older sister drive her to DocH's hospital and I would meet them there.
As luck would be, Doc H was on call for his service, so he wasn't able to meet us in the ER. He did say he would try to finish up and come meet us down there at some point.
Fine. I get it.
At check in, we flashed our insurance card. We were escorted to a room right away.
A nice, young resident took care of her evaluation. He did a good job, but I wasn't completely sure about his call to forgo a CT. By this time, my daughter is crying and can't stand up due to dizziness.
So, I insert this, "Thank you so much Doctor. My husband works here and he insisted I bring her in."
He begins to fumble through her chart, asking if he might know my husband.
I answer, "Dr. ________, Chief of __________ Surgery? Do you know him?"
"Oh, YES! I'm going to get [my attending] to come in and take a look at your daughter."
And that's when DocH entered the room and took over.
It's nice when (after all we go through) being a doctor's wife comes in handy.