Let the good times roll

We took a trip to the ER this afternoon. Chris stepped off the porch and landed wrong on his foot, twisting his ankle something awful. It swelled up immediately and he could't even think about walking on it. He wanted to lie down on the couch with an ice pack. I insisted we see a doctor. None of the doctors in town had an x-ray machine. We had to head to the hospital....an hour away.

Again, he told me he'd just lie down on the couch with an ice pack. His plans were to go to work. "Besides, there isn't much for me to do tonight." I'm a pretty submissive woman, but I put my foot down here. It was obviously messed up and he was getting a little loopy. I wasn't sure how much he was in his right mind at that point. He put his foot down as well....the good one.

When we got home, we all hopped out of the car and were headed inside when I heard Chris pipe up from the driveway....."Wait! Don't LEAVE me!" He could barely hobble. I had to tease him. "You don't need my help do you? You're planning on going to work without me tonight, right? Besides, there isn't much for you to do...." He agreed to the hospital.

Dropping kids off with my mom, we drove away. Chris was in a lot of pain, which kind of had him out of his head a little, but all in all it was a surprisingly enjoyable evening. Usually the most easy going kind of guy, he is paranoid and....interesting...when in severe pain.

While taking an exit, I failed to turn on my turn light. This really bothered him. "Aren't you going to SIGNAL?" he asked, aghast.

"To WHOM?" I asked, looking at the empty expanse of highway surrounding us.

"GOD can see you! And it's the LAW!" he insisted.

Once in triage, the nurse asked him how he hurt his foot. "Just one of those things," he said. Not exactly what they were wanting to write in his file. When the nurse pressed for more details, Chris explained how he stepped off the porch, the sounds his foot made, how it felt, and began confessing that he had cussed at that point. His confessor nurse thanked him and left. Another nurse checked his foot to be certain he had full feeling in everything. To do this, she caressed his foot!

SHE CARESSED HIS FOOT!

I don't even caress his feet. I love him dearly, but ewwwwwww. Couldn't they just poke with a pencil to see if it had feeling?

We were in the waiting room nearly four hours. I got quite a bit of knitting done, but poor Chris was hurting too badly to focus on the Black Entertainment Television playing in the corner. He did make random observations to pass the time in a voice too loud to be considered discreet.

"She's here for a meth addiction."

"Hear her hacking? Don't breathe her air."

"She's not going to make it. You know how you can just tell sometimes?" (???) No. No I have never been able to tell that.

And my favorite: "Whoa. Watch out....something's going on over there with the security guard. He's been watching this guy the whole time."

"What guy?" I asked.

"The old guy in the corner."

"You mean the elderly homeless man he's giving a bowl of soup?"

"Oh. Yeah. Probably not so dangerous," he admitted.

Next, I made him grumpy by taking pictures of his ankle. But he forgave me once I promised to share pictures of my own ankles. I realized after we sat down that I was wearing my rainy-day-stay-home-and-read knitted socks with puppy dog faces appliquéd on the ankles. They're ugly, but they were a gift and they are comfy. And I wasn't planning on leaving the house.

Once finally in the back, we met the doctor who again, caressed his feet.

Blech.

I'm not exaggerating. There is no other word for it. They didn't TOUCH his foot, they caressed the hairy thing. I know I'm sounding rather rude about my beloved's feet, but you must understand: His toes are grown together! And you also need to understand, that Chris and I have an understanding about our feet. He finds mine equally repulsive. He has no idea why I don't like his. He finds them beautiful and is actually proud of the webbed toes, but his feelings aren't hurt since he finds mine so disgusting. We're even.

The doctor looked at the x-ray and pronounced it "Not broken." He said it would take 4-6 weeks to stop hurting and gave Chris a note for the rest of the week off work. Unless it isn't any better in a week and then he needs more x-rays. And the gave Chris drugs and sent us home. We stopped by the pharmacy on the way home to fill his prescription for more good drugs. We also picked up a nutritious supper of Sour Patch Kids, Reese's Pieces, and Mtn. Dew. It took them a long time to fill the prescription, so Chris' drugs were good and kicked in for the drive home.

It might sound crazy, but it was a fun night. He's fun to be with. Especially when medicated. We drove home with him singing Magic Carpet Ride into his Mtn. Dew bottle microphone. Once we finally got to bed, he nuzzled my ear and whispered, "You're exothermic. I love that about you" and then passed out. Quite a day.

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