Lousy Weekend
So, Friday afternoon, I was cleaning the apartment. A nice, thorough sort of cleaning.
I was almost done cleaning when I bent over to put the Lysol under the kitchen sink and felt a nice little "pop" in my lower back...and found myself unable to stand up. I kinda freaked, staggered backwards into my chair, and spent the next two hours there. I was still in a lot of pain and having trouble moving, but I decided to tough it out, figuring if I just rested, I would feel better.
Weeeellll...by about 10:30, I couldn't take it anymore. I had James take me to the urgent care clinic, but lo and behold! It was closed!
I still decided I needed help, though...so to the Valley Hospital ER we went. They put me in a wheelchair and did the standard tests...blood pressure, pulse, etc. and put me back in the waiting room until a room was available...which was about ten minutes later.
After disrobing and putting on the spiffy little gown, I laid on the hospital bed waiting for the doctor, who asked me a few questions and decided that I had strained my back. He informed me that a nurse would be in shortly to give me some meds.
Sure enough, a nurse popped in a few minutes later and gave me one injection in each of my thighs- one a muscle relaxer, one a painkiller- and told me the doctor would be back to check on me in a while. After about twenty minutes, James came in and joined me...and there we waited for another hour and a half, by which time I was pretty out of it.
I was discharged from the hospital at about 2 AM with a diagnosis, a work release note, and instructions on how nicely to treat my poor back. I immediately went to my work to drop off my note (And to get some ibuprofen, since Wal-Mart was the only other place open at that hour), and went home where I decided I was going to throw up. Apparently one of the meds made me nauseous...but as soon as I sat down in front of the toilet to vomit, I felt better. I went to bed.
Fast forward to Saturday night. I spent most of Saturday sleeping off the meds, but we ran to the store for a brief while for milk and to visit my bank so I could deposit some money in order to pay the rent. We came home, I went back to sleep for a while.
At around 8 PM, James came out to visit me on the couch, and said he was going to go to Wal-Mart to get my birthday present...which he put off until 9:15. We agreed that he would hurry home so we could lay together and watch TV...but alas, that was not to be.
At about 9:45, James called me, saying that his friend Danny (Whom I've never met) called and wanted him to hang out for a while. I was annoyed and opposed to this plan, as I was still in a lot of pain and having trouble getting around, but James went anyway, saying he'd only be gone for a couple of hours.
At 12:08, I got a text message from James saying that he was at Danny's new place, "one of the Cedar apartments" (Which there are about 20 Cedar complexes in the area), and that he would be home soon. I went back to sleep, and when I woke up at 2:00, he still wasn't home. Did I mention that he wasn't answering the phone calls I'd been trying to make to him since the 12:08 text message?
At 3:00, I decided to drag my sore self out to go search for him because I was rather pissed off at him for staying out so late while ignoring my phone calls and not calling me back. I made it through three of the ninety million Cedar complexes before I succumbed to my back pain and came home. I called James a few more times and went to sleep, thinking he would be home when I woke up.
4:00 rolls around, and I wake up. Still no James, still no phone calls from James. I call him a few MORE times and go back to sleep for another two hours. I wake up at around six...STILL NO JAMES! STILL NO PHONE CALLS FROM JAMES! I sob, becoming more angry and worried by the minute. I call James and leave teary voice mails. I send him urgent text messages. No replies.
I go back to sleep AGAIN, as sleep makes time pass faster, and wake up at about 7:30. And...you guessed it. No James, no phone calls. I try calling him AGAIN, and then I send my mom a text message, saying James is missing. She texts me back, I elaborate. She calls me and I sob out the whole tale to her. She tells me to send him one more text message and voice mail with an ultimatum: Call me RIGHT NOW or I call the police. I do so, and receive a call from Twila, who tells me not to call the police, James is probably just passed out drunk at his friend's house. She tells me he'll probably be home soon, and that when he does come home to STAY CALM, and confront him. I calm down a little bit, then go back to bed at about 8:00. Mom calls back at 9:00, wakes me up. James is still gone. I call him again; no answer. I'm hysterical, but somehow manage to fall asleep until 10:30 (Probably due in no small part to the meds from Friday night). I wake up, call James AGAIN, sob some more, and at about 11:00, get a phone call from Twila asking if I've heard from him yet. I say no, and at this point, she tells me to call the police, saying that if he had passed out, he should be awake by now. At this point, I've sent James about eight text messages, called about 30 times, and left about six voice mails. In addition, my mom, Twila, and my grandma have all called James at least twice each. I call 911 (Because for some stupid reason, the non-emergency numbers have no operators on the weekends) and tell the dispatcher my fiance has been gone for fourteen hours, and I haven't heard anything from him in eleven hours...I have no idea where he is. She instructs me to call the jail and the five major hospitals (Only four that I was aware of, and therefore only four that I call), and then if he's not at any of those places, to call back. Sure enough, he's at NONE of those places; I call back. They get some basic info...my name and address, his name, etc., and say that they'll send a deputy over. I get off the phone, try James a few more times, sit on the couch, and wait for the deputy.
FINALLY, a little after noon, JAMES CALLS ME!! Sure enough, he passed out on the couch and he's on his way home.
I try to get a hold of the sheriff's office to tell them James has been found, but as I'm calling a number, there's a knock on the door- the deputy has arrived. I tell him James has been found, and apologize. He leaves, and James gets home about ten minutes later.
We have a little "chat," and after patching things up/making threats and ultimatums about future occurrences, we go to bed.