Margot, being hugely preggo, wobbles into the grocery store every morning right by work. She spends a fortune on her daily food, selecting tons of organic, healthy items which she then spends her day eating.
This morning, however, while standing in line waiting to pay for her array, Margot felt suddenly ill. Dizzy and woozy, Margot dropped her basket of food in line and headed outside, sitting on one of the many swing sets available for sale in front of the store. Feeling even more dreadful and not getting any better, Margot soon realized that she had to lie down. Immediately. So she dragged her huge self back into the store, selected an aisle and lay down. I find this ironic because Margot constantly chastises me for rolling around on the floor at work, a far less public surface than some old supermarket.
As it’s hard to miss a pregnant woman lying in the middle of the frozen foods section, Margot was soon spotted by staff who called her an ambulance.
I deal with shitty situations by telling shitty jokes. Sometimes, it helps. Sometimes, it doesn’t. Perhaps, when your dear pregnant friend calls you from the back of an ambulance, it’s probably not a good idea to say, “Hey Margot. I wonder if you were about to throw up, and the checker handed you a bag, if you’d have a choice between paper or plastic.”
I had to go to the hospital to pick Margot up, and was hoping to see some emergency room action or at least a hot doctor. No such luck, as Margot was waiting for me and very ready to leave. Delicately, I placed her in Rhonda the Honda, and proceeded to entertain her all the way home as she sipped her hospital juice.
Turns out, she’s anemic, which is apparently no big deal. She’s home and resting now, currently IMing me, concerned that I might write a blog about this. When told that indeed, I am detailing her medical adventure, she made it perfectly clear that I was to represent her bravely and to point out that she was rescued by 5 firemen and paramedics.
Margot via Instant Message: yea, not one was a woman. all men and asking me a million questions. very very nice charming gents. not a bad way to go!
Oh my. I think I’m feeling faint…