Concussion, part deux

My friend Nick had a concussion! He hit his head on a bathroom cabinet while reaching for band-aids. Oww.
He lost a bunch of hair and was bleeding; it was a small gash but still pretty deep. His roomates didn't seem to think much of it, but Nick felt dizzy and disoriented and you could tell he didn't feel 100%. He decided he'd better go to a hospital, and I agreed with him. His roomates had a party to go to (actually, we'd all meant to go), and didn't seem to be too worried, so I said I'd accompany Nick to the hospital-- and you could tell he was secretly relieved not to have to go alone. I have to wonder: how on earth could his roomates not go with him? Anyway. We took a cab to good ol' Hotel-Dieu, the hospital where we took Sean (my concussioned friend #1). Ahhh, again. The nurses told us we'd have to wait three or four hours... and it was eleven. Oy.
It's a good thing I came with him, because he didn't speak any french. We ended up in the same waiting room. I was secretly relieved not to go to the party; lately I've been somewhat anti-social. Anyway, we got lucky and someone ended up seeing him at 12! He got one stitch, and the official story is that: he was attacked by a leprachaun with a machete, and also we totally partied it up in the Emergency room.
My roomate also ended up joining us with coffee and cards. I had originally called her so that she wouldn't worry, and she insisted on keeping us company. She had been with me when Sean broke his face, so she knew that waiting all night in a hospital waiting room was no fun at all. We ended up playing hearts, it was actually nice! Hospital visits are all about making the best of what you've got.
Well, Nick should be fine. The hair should grow back, and he'll have a nifty scar to show for it.

So yeah, second Saturday night I spend at Hotel Dieu. What the heck? Do I have some concussion-inducing hormone? In my denfense, Nick hit his head before I got to their place.