cuckoo. g'joob.

Over a text conversation, my sister asked how I was doing. I let her know that the small fold in the back of my throat, lovingly referred to as my "throat vajayjay", had captured a large ball of partially-digested food (why is it always white?!) in the back of the trap instead of the usual nook of the front fold. I can usually massage the folds until the blob pops out, but it usually results in a serious gag reflex, and sometimes minor residual irritation that disappears within an hour. Although this particular swabbing was an eventual success, it challenged me to the point of disturbing and evicting the contents of my stomach.

Side note: The more information I gift upon the question "how are you", the more likely it is that I treasure our relationship. An individual could read a Soozn one-word answer as curt and testing, like a moat guarding a wall guarding an army guarding a titan guarding a plasma forcefield guarding a mutant army guarding another moat (this one's on fire) guarding a fence (covered in spikes decorated a la Vlad the Impaler) guarding a chihuahua guard dog guarding a fortress. Either that, or a Soozn could be feeling lazy.

I asked my sister how she was doing. She complained of a sharp pain in her abdomen. A few hours later, she finished her shift at work, picked up her 9-month-old daughter, and drove herself to the ER. After an uninvited tour of San Francisco and what can only be a practical joke (thanks Google Maps!), I finally arrived at the hospital in time to hold the beautiful, crying baby while my sister received an ultrasound. (It would appear that my niece is far-sighted, and can only truly appreciate my presence from at least a foot away.)
     We awaited results and I did my best to keep both mother and child entertained, making balloon puppets out of gloves, sharing string beans, hiccuping, singing, clapping, hopping around with tupperware-- y'know, the usual auntie bag of tricks. Since the past three years have been filled with multiple hospital trips for all of the members of my immediate family, I tend to travel daily with a cell charger, deodorant, water, snacks, and aspirin. (I've considered keeping an overnight bag in the trunk of my car, but then it'd sit there and get smelly and I'd have to eventually wash it-- it just seemed like too much of a hassle.)
     A staff member arrived to request the copayment, and my sister had her hands full of bored, squirmy princess whilst hooked to an IV drip that was being tugged and tested in the fray. I was called-upon to fetch currency from the shirt breast pocket, and in doing so, I retrieved... an egg.

(I just asked my boyfriend what game he's playing on his PC. The name went in one ear and out the other. Is there a random video game title generator out there? Super Dungeon Wrangler Fighting Battleground Zero Six Turbo Rally Force Dungeon Master Hero -ville...)

     My sister's husband arrived before my hospital volunteer shift arrived at its 3-hour mark... after I'd worked a hectic 10-hour shift. I took my leave and returned home (a 1.5-hour drive), just in time to scarf down some dinner and get my 6 hours of rest before my hectic understaffed Friday.

I've. Earned. This.