Has Sex Sent You to the ER?

With as clumsy as we are it is actually a miracle that sex has never sent Mr. McKay or I to the ER. There were close calls. There were times when we probably should have gone for medical attention, but for a majority of the earlier part of our relationship we didn't even have health insurance. 

We've fallen out of showers, fallen in showers, and overflowed jacuzzi tubs. (Clearly we should not try to have sexy time near water.)

Last year, I tripped backwards over a laundry basket and cracked the back of my head open on the corner of the dresser. Blood, so much blood. 

There was panic. We thought for sure I was going to end up in the ER. And now I know what hurts more than busting your head open on the dresser. It's when the aroused feelings are totally gone—because you are in pain and bleeding from the head—and your husband pulls the ben wa balls out of you.

I kicked him. "Ow! Why'd you do that?"

"Do you want to explain this at the hospital?" he asks, holding up the hot pink balls. "Cause I don't."

The bleeding stopped and I didn't have any signs of a concussion, so we got out of that situation without having to involve medical professionals.

It also wasn't actual sex that almost sent me to the ER. If there was a show called "Almost Killed by Poor Housekeeping" or "Romantic Nights Ending in Mild Concussions" then Mr. McKay and I would be all over it!

But we've never had to visit the ER.

Have you? The television show Sex Sent Me to the ER is casting now. Here is a handy dandy flyer with all the contact info.