Last I heard (last night), there was a wind advisory for Chicago, with predicted winds of up to 50 mph. Apparently it's also supposed to get up to 90 degrees today. And here I sit in my climate-controlled, 72-degree room, watching trees waving wildly and mentally adding music to the black plastic bag blowing higher against the backdrop of green glass and concrete. I can also see two college-age guys in shorts and (presumably) Abercrombie shirts walking in the opposite direction. How terribly disappointing. I don't even get a little bit of eye candy to make up for my glaring lack of twenty-something contact.
Moving away from my blanket of hormonal self-pity, I have transfered to the University of Chicago! Rather, I have been transported to the University of Chicago Hospitals. Dispelling any fears, I am still planning on returning to Boston University in about three months. Anyway. So last night, around 11 pm, two EMTs came and carted me away in their bright yellow ambulance. Carted is about the correct term. They had me hop up onto a transport-bed, which they proceeded to strap me onto. Two straps over my shoulders, one across my chest, and one across my legs, all buckled, tightened, and ready to go. The funny, and somewhat disconcerting, part of this journey was that the bed (?) was actually slanted towards the ground. I felt like I was going to just slide right off. Anyway, so we proceeded to the ambulance where they hoisted me up and stuffed me in, shifting me a little to the left so the bed (?) would lock in place. Then the guy climbed into the back, and the woman headed to take the wheel. The next 34 minutes were spent in a mad hurtle towards downtown Chicago and the nurses who know my disease. And away from a room that included a couch, good cable, better food, and nurses who didn't quite know what to do with me. I know I made the right decision. I would now like to elaborate on the EMTs. Having spent roughly an hour with them, I feel comfortable saying that they were nice, smart, but ultimately have way too much time on their hands during shifts. The guy who sat in back with me was like, "Hey, wanna play a game? You give me any actor or actress, and I can tell you in six degrees or less how he or she is connected to Kevin Bacon." I was like, "um, I don't really like movies..." I think I dampened his cheer. I instead chose to frequently give the "rock" sign to the vehicles following an ambulance too closely. (Apparently they could see me because our internal lights were on.) But the actions and various measures against boredom of the EMTs were consistent with what I've heard other EMTs do to fill their long shifts. (I've heard some ridiculous things. coughcough) So, in summation, last night was a late but exciting adventure, and now I'm all settled at the U of C to continue waiting for my white blood cell counts to rebound. Think happy white blood cell counts for me, and have a solid Thursday. Peace.