I'm Glad This Day Is Over

It's been a very rough day in the life Puddin, and I'm glad that in less then an hour I will be going to bed and looking forward to a better day tomorrow.

First of all, I got my feelings hurt today at work. I really don't want to get into it, but a co-worker did something and hurt my feelings. After I stewed about it for an hour, I did something that the old Puddin wouldn't have done -- I put on my big girl pants and I told them that they hurt my feelings. Ordinarily I would internalize and keep it bottled up, but today I spoke my mind. We cleared the air and I moved on.

Second, there was major drama in our happy little department at work. We thought my boss was having a heart attack. She had the symptoms of a heart attack, and with her recent bout with cancer, we didn't take any chances and called EMS. But she looked fine - she had all of her color, and didn't look pale or pastey. The head of HR and our company president both asked me if I would ride with her in the ambulance so I grabbed the Prada purse and ran out with the EMTs and my boss on the gurney.

We changed plans mid-route because the original hospital wouldn't accept our health insurance (more on that in another journal entry) and headed downtown to Jewish Hospital. It's a great hospital, but unfortunately my boss' husband was on his way to the Baptist East Hospital, the one they originally said they were taking her to. I ended up following the ambulance instead of riding with them, and I didn't have his cell number so I had to wait till we got to the hospital so I could talk to my boss and get the number from her. After finally getting in touch with him, I went back and sat in the crowded ER waiting room. That experience is also enough for its own journal entry. But I digress. They let me back to wait with her in the ER room, which surprised me; they usually do everything but check for DNA to make sure you're a relative before they let you in. So I sat there with her for about an hour before her husband got there, trying to think of funny things to talk to her about to keep her mind off of everything.

My boss' husband finally got there and went back to see her and to talk with the doctor, and every half hour or so he'd come out and I would go back and visit for a bit. After they did the CT scan, I gave her a hug and came on home. When I left, they still didn't know if she'd had a heart attack or not. She still looked great and was fussing about being hungry, so I think she felt all right. That's a good sign in my book. I'll keep you posted. But now, I'm going to bed.