Monday, April 07, 2008

Sure ain't no Florence Nightingale...

If a cop calls you at home it's never good. I don't know why I didn't pick up on this when he identified himself. Uh, oh something not good is coming. Nope, not me. No clue.

My better half was struck by a car yesterday morning while on his way to work.

Thankfully he's OK. Well, if 'OK' can include a broken collar bone, painfully bruised ribs, injured hand and a twisted ankle.

When we finally got him home, I helped him upstairs to bed and tried to help him get as comfortable as possible. Frankly, I was reluctant to touch him anywhere because he was hurting so badly and you could tell. That scared me more than anything all morning.

I finally decided that I could touch his head. I leaned forward to give him a hug and speak quietly to him. He looked so uncomfortable and in pain. Finally, he said through gritted teeth, "Your leaning on my collar bone".

Florence Nightingale I'm not.