Glimpse of hubby's life
Stan and I rarely talk on the phone during the work day. He's working, and very busy, so we reserve calls for only emergencies. I recall a few of those calls ....
"I THINK GRANT BROKE HIS ARM"
another time ...
"Don't panic. Our house has been burglarized. Can you come home?"
and then ...
"I THINK GILES BROKE HIS ARM."
There have been other less hysterical (not the funny kind) calls to Daddy's work. But those three came quickly to mind. Then I realized that all three of those calls occurred within about six weeks.
Anyway, no reason for that digression to the point ... which is ... though I don't call, I do email. That's no surprise to anyone who knows me!
I fired off something to him earlier about this and that. No biggies just stuff about what he wants for dinner or what he's wearing right now!! And what he's thinking about all of my thoughts.
His reply:
"I refuse to think. I've been thinking too much today and my brain is mush! Should I apply compression dressings on wounds that don't have current arterial studies? Should home health get involved with this wound? Should the patient be on antibiotics; should the doctor be disturbed/paged from their 40 million patients to have me say "maybe you should look at this"? should I pick at that piece of black stuff or is that a cauterized artery?"
Oh dear. Happy Monday. And gross. Who said physical therapy was a glam job?
Now my big question ... what sort of cocktail should I have ready for HIM when he comes home?
Posted in: on Monday, August 27, 2007 at at 4:31 PM
