gang fight in the er — yars

The little winger from South Africa placed a period and exclamation point on our tournament in one brilliant play. We were out. Now, over four hours after Lou’s concussion and still he was confused about graduate school, prompting us regularly in case school had already begun. I owned some previous experience with concussions, once waking on the field thinking I sat on the observation deck of Cleveland’s largest skyscraper. Buddy and I both agreed, time to get Lou in front of a doctor.

With Lou’s keys safely in hand, verbal directions to the hospital in Buddy’s head we zipped off to stop at the ER ( emergency room ) and then complete the three hour drive back to Cleveland and home.

The ER nurse was a friendly older woman with a warm caring smile. She took one look at the lump on Lou’s temple, and looked at his eyes and proclaimed, “Ohhhhh”, the Oh that has two syllables full of worry. But a problem existed. The hospital didn’t really have a room, and the doctors were busy but they could set something up. So out came a cot, and a little curtain separator and Lou lay down and buddy and I sat on the edge of the cot, all in our ripe smelling, dirt and grass stained rugby kit.

Fifteen minutes pass without a doctor peeking in. But the ER room waiting room is filling. A young man staggers in with his wailing girl friend propping him up, he’s been stabbed. They vanish, somehow absorbed into the bowels of the hospital. The waiting room starts to simmer. A second man comes from an ambulance with a big bandage over his head. Others come in with deep cuts, and contusions.

The clock steadily progressed as the injured flow in. New cots appeared near us, a little squatters village without a doctor. The waiting room began to boil, the friends and worriers of these injured young men don’t care to share sorrows. The women are the worst, shouting and confronting one another “It’s your fault, your gonna pay you!^$$!@**”. Nurse friendly struggles to keep the room calm. We were so low on the priority list we might be invisible.

Buddy caught my eye and nods to the door. I nod back, and we both rise. “Come on Lou, let’s get going” I say.

Lou looks at us asking where with his eyes.

Buddy smiles and says “Graduate school”.

Don’t fret, things turned out well for Lou as you can see.

YARS — yet another rugby story…

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