Denver

Unlike last Monday, we made it to Denver without getting a speeding ticket. I didn't think 75 in a 65 zone would be pull-over worthy, and neither did my husband who'd encouraged me to pass the slow pick-up truck. I was dreading the moment the officer saw Nick because you just KNOW he was thinking, "Dude, your wife's driving do this to you?" but I digress...

Today's drive was beautiful, but a two-hour delay near Kenosha Pass where a semi had jack-knifed and come to rest clear across both lanes caused us to arrive at the eye doc's late. It was only the pre-op and they were aware of our predicament, so no worries. He's clear for tomorrow and is looking forward to getting it over with.

You know how Indiana Jones was with snakes? "Snakes.... ANYTHING but snakes..." Well that's how Nick has always been about his eyes. No matter how bloodshot they are there's no way a drop of anything is going near them (and putting three different eye drops in his injured eye four times a day is part of my nursing duties - fun!). On one of his Himalayan expeditions a climbing mate was doing some kind of eyes-at-altitude experiment, and it required the team to periodically put tearing strips under (in? in between? not sure) their eyelids to measure liquid levels. From the way he tells it, it's clear this helped worsen a doomed expedition which ended with bringing two of his teammates down in body bags. But that's another story.

Point is, tomorrow's procedure is going to be done under a local anesthetic so he'll be aware of what they're doing. This will be the first appointment where I'm not accompanying him in the room, and this is a good thing.  If I weren't driving him around afterward (looking for a water heater probably) I'd go support the hospital bar. Is there such thing as a hospital bar? There should be.

I just know I wouldn't be able to handle seeing him in any more pain. When we left Idaho Falls, there were so many immediate concerns, that his hand was kind of an afterthought. It was the last thing we needed to take care of in Durango, and he never mentioned it hurting much, except for when Cayenne accidently sat on it. When he broke out in that allergic rash he was going crazy wanting to scratch the itch under the boxing glove bandage, and he had me take it off, saying the original doc had said it could come off in 7-10 days. I wanted him to keep it on until the next morning as we were seeing the bone doc anyway, but he was having none of that. So I slowly unraveled it to reveal a massive, swollen, blue, featureless hand, with pins sticking out of it. It looked like the bloated off-coloured appendage of a drowned corpse.

I guess I had gotten used to the injuries he was dealing with daily at doctors' offices, because seeing yet another one hit me like a punch in the stomach. I held the edge of the kitchen counter and just cried (quietly, hoping he wouldn't hear me), and he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me until I got myself together again (i.e. reminded myself who should be comforting whom!). So I know that being in the room tomorrow - even if it were allowed - would not be a good idea.

I called the Thomases to say good-night to the girls, and the Piccaros to see how Satcho is doing, and it seems everyone is doing just fine without us. I guess that means I can rest now.

So with a tummy full of yummy Indian food I bid you a good night as well. Nick's tummy is actually distended with the largest meal he's eaten yet; he looks like a skinny snake who's just wrapped its jaws around a fat rat. There's that Indiana Jones thing again. How come when he crashes planes and things he doesn't get hurt?