My son is one of my movie-going buddies. After his classes yesterday, he came home and announced we were going to watch Woody Harrelson in, Zombieland, and promptly turned it on. While this genre of movie isn't typically my cup of tea, and I really hate movies that scare me, this particular picture was funny. We laughed off and on for close to two hours.
It was then that I got the call out to see someone at a campground.
Thinking it was a joke, I explored further. I'd seen this person in a brick and mortar home more than once, but had no idea that camping had sounded like a good idea for a rainy October vacation to that family, and now that the patient had a need for a nurse, we were going to drag that nurse kicking and pouting all the way to a campground and just after she'd finished watching Zombieland.
Imagine yourself trying to find a needle in a haystack in the darkness of night and you have an idea of what I was trying to find last night--a camping patient staying forty miles from my home. If I hadn't known this person, I would not have gone.
I did get in and out of there without running into any zombies, but it was incredibly creepy to such an imaginative human. I'm still trying to get the hairs on the back of my neck to lay flat again.