Waffle House is a strange place at 2AM on a Saturday.

My Talespinner came home from work yesterday in a bad state…bad enough to bundle her off to urgent care, where we met The Worst Triage Nurse in the World, a statement I feel quite confident in making even without, you know, having met every triage nurse in the world. He failed to recognize symptoms of anaphylaxis when it was right in front of him…

…so we spent over an hour in the waiting room and another half-hour in an actual room before a nurse came in, took one look at her, said “ER, right now,” and had her admitted.

The ER reached the same conclusion, shot her full of antihistamines and steroids, and a surprisingly short while later she was right as rain.
Funny how correct diagnosis works.
I will say the whole thing was a wonderful example of the best things about polyamory. Her other boyfriend came up to meet us in hospital and helped her roomie and I care for her.

Once she was discharged, we landed at Waffle House. Waffle House is, as I may have mentioned, a strange place at 2AM on a Saturday. The two burly guys in the corner wolfing down immense plates of hash browns were clearly werewolves, and I think our server was a fey changeling or something.

Of course, because she is who she is, my Talespinner came up with a new story idea. She didn’t earn that name from nothing!