My dear, sweet 95-year-old mother-in-law fell and cracked several vertebrae last year. A few days later, she was having extreme pain and her doctor told us we should take her to the ER at one of our two local hospitals. One was brand new and had just opened a few weeks prior and was the closest. The home where she lives required we use an ambulance service for her transport to the hospital, so we met them at the ER.
We were a bit surprised to find the ER waiting room almost filled to capacity. Looking for three seats together, we spied ones at the far end by a corridor that led past two single-seat public restrooms. We edged past a guy in a wheelchair, who looked deathly pale, and I noticed some dark fluid under the wheelchair thinking it must be some spilled soda.