Our living room has been turned into a Nursing Home, complete with a hospital bed, heavy narcotics, various braces and walker. I am taking suggestions for names of our facility: if you come up with some whimsical, happy sounding, old people place, leave me a comment!
I can't get into too many specifics, but here is the short version of the story. Darin went for a Doctor's appointment (which he was none to happy about going to anyway, it was for some stupid doctor required visit) they made him take off his shoes to get measured and had him head to the exam room. He took one step into the room and down he went, breaking his right knee cap and shattering his left wrist. I got a call and had to meet him at the hospital. He ends up with surgery on his wrist and a brace from groin to ankle on his knee. He's got a walker with this elbowy contraption so he can gimp to the bathroom. Because of this, he can't get upstairs, thus, the hospital bed downstairs. Apparently, the cleaning crew had used a Pledge-like substance on the door, which got onto the floor. Doctor's office has admitted has admitted fault and well, I am sure you can see where that's heading. Plus he's out of work for a while.
Anyway, with him being unable to do much, I am left to pick up the slack. Luckily our family has been an amazing support and doing everything they possibly can to help us out. I can't leave D alone because of his fall-risk so I have to line up Gimpy-sitters to go grocery shopping or whatever. It's tough for all of us.
I've gotta tell you, Calgon just ain't cuttin it. (Yeah, like I have time for a bubble bath! 
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1 comment:
If I lived closer I would be there as often as I could be!
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