While in the Kuntry, we tried to relax as much as possible...Until Abe cut his left index finger so badly that I had to drive him 30 minutes to the nearest ER- note: closest ER was in Paris, Texas which is just kuntry, no capital k. Anyway, after sitting in the waiting room for over 3 hours, finally we were called back. At this point, Abe is looking pale and I am irritated to no end about the service here. (There were only 2 other families waiting to be seen.) Anyway, doc comes in, looks at the cut, looks at Abe and says, "Ok, let me go get the stuff." Stuff? Do you mean, the sutures, numbing medication and bandages? He returns, attempts to numb the finger and then starts stitching. OW! His finger wasn't even numb yet- the doc just injects the medication and starts on his merry little way, telling us all about his dad and how he carried a pocket knife all the time, blah blah blah. Abe is wincing at the pain. And I am just standing there, unable to move because someone (I won't name names) is crushing my hand like an 18 wheeler could crush toothpicks. Once the doc finished with his whopping 5 stitches, he turned to the person crushing my hand and says, "Now you might have nerve damage, but there is nothing anyone can do about it."
Fast Forward to Friday, July 10. I am sitting in the waiting room of Baylor Frisco waiting for the hand crusher to get out of surgery to repair his severed nerve. Needless to say, I have my work cut out for me for the next 3 weeks while Abe cannot hold/change/bath/feed our baby, nor can he take out the trash, clean the pool, or mow the lawn. Added to my already long list of responsibilites, work, and baby, I now have all of Abe's chores. Lord have mercy.
