"You mean to tell me there are ten people in more pain than she is in," John told the ER intake nurse when she told him how long the wait would be. I heard him, but couldn't see him. I had my eyes closed, willing the pain in my back to go away. We'd been dating less than two months and I wasn't ready for him to see me at my worst. Next thing I knew, he was helping me to the parking lot and putting me in his car. "We're going to a different hospital." I sat in the waiting room, silently crying, embarrassed to let him see me cry. He stayed with me while I changed into the immodest gown (although he admitted later he was just hoping to see me nekkid). He found a warm blanket when I said I was cold. He waited in the hall outside the CT room and walked beside my gurney back to the ER holding cell. That was nineteen years ago this month. It was the night I fell in love with him. It was when I knew he'd be my protector, the one who'd have my back,