Starting about midnight Sunday , things got even interestinger around here.
Guido managed to break a bone in her left forearm — I think it’s the radius — down where it joins the wrist. She did this by falling off a dining room chair on which she was standing in the middle of the night, in a darkened room, attempting to unscrew a screaming smoke alarm from the ceiling. Her husband was sleeping like a dead man, as usual, and didn’t even hear it, although the thump of a naked body hitting the terrazzo floor did the trick.
So it was the old midnight run to the ER followed by a trip to the 24-hour pharmacy (for narcotics), then the next-day wait at the orthopedic surgeon’s office for further evaluation and CT scan. She will probably need surgery to repair, but in any event she’s out of business for 6 – 8 weeks.
On the plus side, she’s right-handed, but that about dries up the up-side news. Except for the renewable ‘scrip for Percocet. Percocet is my favorite legume.
We’ll know more in a few days, after the surgeon sees the CT results and runs some P&L numbers. If she requires surgery, it would be next week.
(Cultural touch-point: were it not for ObamaCare, she would not have health insurance. Fuck off, Mittney. Yew asshat.)
Anyway, I have just become the primary care giver for one spouse, one dog, and 7 cats. Poll: which ones do you think will survive? Include me in the equation.