On hospital waiting rooms and roommate bonding

On Thursday afternoon, I had just come back from job searching downtown, and was home eating my leftover thai chili, when I got a text from my roommate Andy saying he was in a lot of pain and going to the hospital. I knew he had been having some muscle hurting issues the past week, so I thought it was just precautionary, to see what was wrong and how he could fix it. Me, not knowing my way around, or having a car in which I could transport him, told him I knew there wasn't much I could do- but to still let me know if there was anything. I got a call a few hours later, saying he had been moved to the ICU- and that he wanted me to come keep him company. Knowing Andy doesn't have family here (I know now how crappy that is sometimes) I went to him right away. 

It wasn't until after I got there and talked to the nurse that I realized how serious this had all been. Andy didn't know he had diabetes and his blood sugar was so dangerously high that they feared he would go into cardiac arrest if they didn't lower it. 

Needless to say, that's where I've been the past few days. I brought us some graphic novels from the library down the street and I hang out with him until he falls asleep. I'm just really thankful I didn't lose my only friend and roommate here the first week. Yikes.

Above: The waiting room that I stayed in while they were poking and prodding at him in the ICU, and the result of said poking and prodding.