How long did it take you to get back to sleep?

Last night The Boy headed out to a work-based celebration of their trouncing of another lube joint, this one from Alaska, in a competition to determine the lube joint you'd most likely survive if you had to eat off of the floor.

Or something like that.

"When will you be home?" asked The Blog. "Well, last time I got home about 2 AM" replied The Boy. "Heavy sigh" replied The Blog.

So when the phone rang at 12:30 AM, it could only mean bad things. The caller was from Kaiser Hospital, confirmed that she was talking to Mrs Notthat, then asked her to hold for the doctor.

VERY bad things indeed.

Mrs Notthat headed to the living room while I tried to get my heart rate back under four digits. When I finally managed to find my glasses, I headed out too - she was sitting in a chair, still waiting for the doctor.

With The Boy also standing there, also wondering what was going on.

"You're not dead" I observed.

"You're not who we meant to call" said the doctor once he got on the phone.

"I'm never getting back to sleep" I muttered.

Talking to Mrs Notthat this morning, she said that the person who made the phone call said that this was not an emergency, but who makes non-emergency calls at 12:30 AM?

Oh, right - Kaiser Hospital.

That's it - move along...