2014: No visits to the emergency room (but one emergency toe surgery, thankfully not mine).

2015: Two visits to the ER within a week or so. While mine (today) happened to coincide with the President’s visit to Portland (I still have no idea why he was here), I will do something rarely attempted in the annals of the internet. I will not blame him for it.

Because I scared my husband–he is actually rather hard to scare–I had full-court treatment. 911. Fire truck. Ambulance. ER. Five hours at the ER, actually. And I had kH and qH with me for all of it but an X-ray and a brief break where I shoed them to the children’s garden. The verdict was, after a very disgusting drink of lidocaine and milk of magnesia, esophageal spasms. I fit all the risk factors. I also got to explain to everyone who asked (which was everyone) what I was doing when this pain hit me (and it hit me–I laid on the ground and cried; since I have a relatively high pain threshold, this is, I think, what scared my husband).

I was watching, with pH, the Crash Course video on ATP and cellular respiration.

Crash Course we happily support (albeit at the paltry level of $10/month via Patreon, because money).

I am not looking forward to the upcoming ER bills.

But better than staying overnight. I’m home. I’m letting pH stay up late watching TV, because she earned it. Especially the part when she whined so much about going home that we sang “The Sloop John B” and “Day-O” to her. (The hospital’s lovely new ER has very nice large and private rooms, so I don’t think we annoyed anyone else.) But while she may not have the Krebs cycle down, she does know most of “Day-O” now.