Anyway . . . delicious as the potato sausage may be it does not take priority over getting an X-Ray for my knee. Or at least in MY mind it doesn't. But, once again, I apparently The Man and I do NOT think the same
Going back a few days to the beginning of this "Pain in the Leg" adventure I thought I mentioned to The Man the fact that I was experiencing PAIN in my leg. I try not to complain endlessly about my medical problems so when this first started I was thinking it was sciatica and I didn't really make a big deal of it. That was Tuesday night. Wednesday morning I got up realizing that although I had slept great, (Thank you Tylenol PM) my leg was a lot worse with the pain now going from my foot to my knee so badly that I had trouble walking out to the bathroom. No sooner had I come through the door into the kitchen on my way to the potty I encountered The Man sitting in his usual spot at the kitchen table cradling his right wrist. At that point I was focused on getting to the toilet before I passed out from the pain so I really wasn't sure I heard what I did. The first words out of The Man's mouth were . . . "I have a pain in my wrist". . . Not "Good morning, how are you?", not, "How's your leg?" not even "Hey there" . . . just "I have a pain in my wrist". Now I sympathize with pain, especially at this particular point of having my very own, very intense pain, but REALLY ??????
I muttered something like "Oh gee, I'm sorry to hear that" and continued on to empty my bladder. (That experience was not the least bit fun because trying to get down to a sitting position and then back up again really hurt.) As I stumbled back out through the kitchen my natural "mother" instinct MADE me stop and ask what had happened to the poor man's wrist? "Did you sleep on it funny? Where does it hurt?" to which I was given VERY detailed answers and questions of why this would happen and what should he do. I had a few very strong suggestions of just what he could do but I managed to remain calm and tuck the entire exchange in the back of my mind just waiting to share it with you. Not only did I not hit him with the frying pan that is always sitting out on the stove, I actually limped into the bedroom and returned with a wrist brace that I usually have with me for the occasions when my wrist hurts. (Thanks to arthritis.)
I showed him how to put the thing on, grabbed an ice pack and then limped back to bed because by now I had tears running down my face from my own pain.
I will give The Man credit at this point because he did come into the bedroom to ask if I was OK. He even offered to get me some breakfast so I could take the anti-inflammatory pill which I gratefully accepted. One yogurt and one pain pill later I was doing better. We had a quiet day yesterday, mostly remaining in one position, me laying down, him sitting at the kitchen table. I heated up some leftovers for dinner, drank another ice pack, (see yesterdays blog) and I called my doctor to set up getting an x-ray for today.
THIS morning the pain is subsiding a bit and thanks to having slept great I am feeling a bit better so I am ready to go down to town and get that X-ray done. Mind you I am still limping like a three legged hippo but at least I'm not crying. Once again I walked out into the kitchen on my way to pee and there he sat, wrist in the air and before I could say good morning he started waving his wrist at me to show me how swollen it was. I had to walk over to where he was sitting so he could point out the swelling because honestly I couldn't see it ! I suggested he put ice on it, which he did not do, and told him to call his doctor. By now I am about ready to wet myself and the pain is creeping back into my leg so I made a quick get-away.
Now is where it starts to get absolutely ridiculous . . . As I am walking back to the bedroom to get dressed The Man says, "I have a 4:00 doctor appointment so when you're dressed we can go get your x-ray". I'm thinking "O.K." . . . finally he is realizing I need a little attention . . . NOT !!!!! In the next breath he goes on to tell me that when we leave the house we will stop by his little trailer that he tows behind the lawn mower so I can GET OUT of the car and look for the size of the tire so that we can then stop in town at the tractor store so I can GET OUT of the car, walk into the tractor supply store and buy him a new tire because this one has gone flat. Then he continues to say that after the tractor supply store we will go to the butcher shop so I can GET OUT of the car and go into the butcher shop to buy potato sausage for dinner. This was the point that I should have taken Rhonda's advice and to quote her, say, "FUCK NO!"
But I'm not Rhonda, (Dwaynes sister-in-law) and I am not used to saying "no" to anyone so fifteen minutes later I found myself not only out of the car trying to find a dumb ass number on a tire but actually lifting the wagon, pulling out the pin and taking the tire OFF the wagon and throwing it into the back seat of the car.
It was pretty much down hill from there . . . the hospital didn't have the fax orders for the x-ray so that took an hour. The tractor supply store keeps their tires in the far back corner so I got to walk through the entire store carrying one and then two tires and the butcher shop was crowded so I had to STAND and wait for the precious potato sausage. I really thought that I would at least get a drive through lunch out of the deal but when I suggested we stop for a burger HE suggested I buy some sliced ham while I was in the butcher shop and we could have sandwiches when we got home. Do you even want to guess WHO made the sandwiches ??????? Only that I was hungry did I not throw the ham, bread and mustard at him.
But that just isn't me . . . Say what you want, and I KNOW what my BFF's Sharon and Jeanne would have said and done but here I am, rolling with it all and collecting some really good material to entertain you with. You can thank THE MAN for that.
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