So, I've never really told you this, but the real reason I didn't want Trigger to go away to college is that I somehow knew that one day I was destined to receive this panicked phone call, which came in at approximate 8:53 on Sunday morning. . . .
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Me: Hello?
Trigger: Mom! I'm in the most pain I've ever been in in my life! Should I go to the emergency room?
Me: What's wrong?
Trigger: I told you yesterday! My throat is so sore it feels like it's swollen shut. . .my glands are HUGE and my neck's all swollen. . . I can't move it, you know. . . and I can't touch it. . . and I have the worst headache I've ever had in my life. . . and it's going down my spine now. . . and I've never been in so much pain in my entire life! Should I go to the emergency room or not?
Me (considering. . .) That much pain? More than the time you broke your right foot in that Irish Dancing competition?
Trigger: Yup!
Me: More than the time you broke your left foot playing basketball?
Trigger: More!
Me: And what about the two times I brought you to the emergency room with pleurisy? More than even those times?
Trigger: Way more!
Me: How about the appendicitis? It can't hurt more than the time you had your appendix out. . .
Trigger: Mom! That was Ponzi, not me!
Me: What?
Trigger: Mom! I didn't ask you anything. Talk to me!
Me: I'm trying! But your father wants to know if you have a fever. . .and if you were out at a frat party last night. . . oh, and are you peeing. . .
Trigger: Of course I wasn't out last night, Mom! I'm sick! And I don't even know if I have a fever 'cause I can't find my thermometer! And what business is it of his if I'm peeing or not?
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And if, by chance, you can't imagine a conversation worse than that one, I'm here to tell you that once Trigger was indeed in the emergency room (and I, in church mind you. . . ) our primary means of conversation then became texting:
Trigger: Am hooked up to an I.V. now and they're giving me lots of medicine.
Me: did u tell them u have lupus and did u give them you rheumatologist name (I have yet to master the art of punctuation and capital letters while texting. . .)
Trigger: Yeah, but they said I had to get hooked up right away.
Me: r u dehydrated u father was right i bet u werent peeing what medicine they giving
Trigger: I don't know!
Me: ask them then tell them that doctor milkmans number is two one two eight five three two two nine three (How does one text a number???)
Trigger: Some antibioitics, some painkillers, antinflammoatory (spelling has never really been Trigger's strong suit. . .) and something so I don't throw up.
Me: i think im going to throw up send it here
Trigger: Mom!
I could go on like this forever,
but know that if Trigger were not back
in her dorm room within two hours of these texts,
I would not be here reporting to you as an ever-faithful . . .
but know that if Trigger were not back
in her dorm room within two hours of these texts,
I would not be here reporting to you as an ever-faithful . . .
