Revoltin' development

The second day we were in New York, I came down with a case of gastroenteritis, so I've spent the last 48 hours being sick. I'll spare the details and only recount the funniest episode. In the middle of the night, in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, we decided to call a doctor. Since we're longtime American Express customers, we initially thought of calling their medical referral service, which is supposed to be able to furnish a doctor no matter where you are. But when we called them, we got put on hold. Finally I spoke up, from my flat-on-back position: "Ya know, they might be a little busy with that tidal wave thing."

"Good point," said Cris, and called the hotel's emergency line instead. The result was a very solicitous doctor who showed up at 3 a.m. and gave me a couple of injections and a precription for Cipro.

So that kind of slammed our vacation. We do have tickets for a show tonight and I might be up for it, if we take a taxi. Meanwhile I just hang out in the room overlooking Ground Zero. A dozen cop cars just roared up and parked there, lights flashing. Twenty minutes later, they all left. No explanation.