Tonight around 8pm Philip and I decided that we needed to go ahead and take Kaylee to the ER. Interpretation of that is I have to take the baby to the ER. That poor baby has had problems with her ears for some time now. She's such a little trooper though. She tries to play but whines and tugs on her ear. It's almost comical to see her continue to chew on a toy and whack it on the floor and then pull on her hair by her ear. All the while she's in a trance of some sort and I can just imagine her saying "I have to play, I have to play".
So I go to the nearest hospital which is the one Kaylee was born at and I sign her in to see the triage nurse. We get to a room, and I use that term loosely. It's more like a bed with curtains. (Side note... When we first moved here and we experienced waiting at the max 2 hours in the ER waiting room we were floored. In California we'd have to wait hours to see a doc in the ER. Once at UC Davis I had to wait 8 hours for breathing problems... no joke.) So while my baby and I were sitting there chewing on whatever we could find in my diaper bag.. not me but Kaylee, we were oh so lucky enough to hear our neighbors conversations. One conversation with the doctor and two or three with unknown persons on her cell phone. Several things were wrong with this scenario. First the gal wasn't even suppose to be on her cell in a hospital. Second I could hear every word of her colorful conversation... even if I was 100 feet away I could have heard her. And I was a bit educated myself with the language of a hick slash gangster that had a "sore froat so bad that I can-'t even swallero my own spit ya'll. Dude, I *@^%* can-'t bar'ly talk!"
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