I like both hazelnuts and chocolate, but I do not like Nutella.

OTOH, I can eat my weight in those Ferrer Rocher hazelnut truffleball thingies.

I've been to the ER once for myself, when I was a kid and broke both my arms. At once. Other than that, just on support trips, once for a friend who got bit by a dog, and a student who dislocated the HELL out of his knee in the parking lot. Stepped wrong, getting into his car; one of the grossest real-life things I've ever seen. Poor guy.

I don't think I've ever taken anyone to the ER.

My mother developed this maternal crush on a friend of mine in university. Because she'd taken me to the ER once. I felt bad trying to say that it didn't make her stand out from the rest of my close friends, but I don't think my mother really wanted to hear all that.

As of now, though, I think she gets it.

I've been to the ER a couple of times as a kid and as an adult, all my ER visits have been Grace-related. We do have ERs we prefer, but the WORST is Pacifica Hospital. A world of NO.

I do have more than my fair share of urgent care visits though. And I think more than most, I also have more than my fair share of ICU visits.

So, my pecan bark? molded to look like real bark. I LOVE how they have turned out.

My first ER trip pre-dates my memory. Something about a very high fever and seizures. I made it to my mid 20s before I had another ER visit.

I encourage LAistas to try out the Santa Monica UCLA hospital. They were usually pretty okay with giving me heavy doses of narcotics, if it's painkillers you need.

There was a handy boutique ER nearer me that didn't give high doses, but had the shortest wait times. We stopped going there because there was one douche doctor, and they wouldn't tell me ahead of time if he was on duty. When I was admitted there, they didn't just have free internet (like UCLA), but a computer at every bed. Good times. Worst food, though.

But for me, it's now Westwood UCLA. It's just the simplest. I don't just know the doctors and nurses by name (and they me), I even know one of the other ER patients. Normally the schedules aren't on a 7 day loop, so I'd see someone different every week, but D's, like, stalking me. And they keep putting me in his section. Which is the suckiest section--it's the only shared adult room in the entire hospital. Which I know very intimately, since I helped launch it too.

I'm not really too familiar with our ER, but sadly Mom and I know which ward to request for lengthy stays in order to get the best nurses and technicians. And which room to request to have the most wheelchair-accessible bathroom.

I've only been to the ER twice myself, once for a broken arm and once when I was in a car accident. And we took Frances once when she drank a bunch of Tylenol. I think she was two or so. She has no memory of it. As parents, we've been lucky so far.

You never took me to the ER, Burrell! You're lucky!

Polgara sent me this revised pain chart. I don't have the ovaries to wear the shirt in.

Okay, that's a pain chart that actually makes sense.

I like how 1 a.m. and a documentary about Cleopatra where one of the experts is speaking maybe German makes me think I understand maybe German. I keep forgetting to read but I swears I am still following the narrative. Might be time to back away from the History International channel.

And, um, go to sleep. Need to find tired.