Saturday, January 07, 2006
The Lists We Make
Tom came home from work on Tuesday night with the stomach flu.
Poor guy--I asked him if he wanted anything for dinner and when I showed him a can of peaches, he ran into the bathroom and, well, let's draw the curtain closed on that.
So then I asked him if he wanted me to run to the convenience store for ginger ale. He did, so I drove down there in the dark. Well, A.) I avoid driving in the dark at all costs and for the sake of all mankind, my eyes not being great and B.) This same convenience store was robbed in November around the same time of the evening.
But hey, for better or worse, in sickness and health and all that, right?
Well, of course the ATM there was out of order, and I had only three dollars with me so I couldn't pick up anything else I needed--that would have been just too, too convenient. So later, standing in line at the same convenience store where I'd told Tom never to go after dark, I'm of course, using all my newly acquired C.S.I. skills (being a C.S.I. tv show addict). I memorized who stood next to me in case I'd later have to identify the robber from the mug shots they'd show me in my hospital bed.
Heh. But miracles of miracles, I made it home safely with two bottles of ginger ale (so I'd not have to risk my life and return later for more).
Well, next morning Tom called in sick to work because he hadn't been able to sleep and still felt sick. Then in the afternoon, he had to keep his pre-arranged doctor appointment where they told him that, yes, he would for sure have to have surgery on his arm a week from Friday.
Yes, he's having surgery on his arm due to an accident on our stairs where he should never have been in the first place.
Er hem.
Argh. Well, there are more gorey details to that Front Steps Disaster Story, but what it amounts to is that Tom will have surgery on his arm next Friday and will miss 3 - 4 weeks of work. And of course, his arm will have to remain immobile all that time and guess who will have to put her life on hold for those 3 to 4 weeks?
Yet, hey. Do I really mind? Well, yes and no. I'm here to help, after all and when you're in love, even after 27 long, crazy years, you do what you must.
And if you're smart, you just list your blessings, namely, that you still have your love with you, even though he's a little worse for the wear.
*****
P.S. ...Oh! How could I forget? Also this week, our bathtub drain was completely clogged for three days. So yesterday Tom spent 2 hours in the basement unclogging the drain. But hooray, the whole pipe is now clog-free and we can now shower again-woo-hoo!
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