A Paragon Tumbled

There are few things more terrifying than getting a phone call from the EMT in Alabama alerting you that they "have your husband."

First your heart plummets to the floor and your head goes blank and you can't see anything for a few seconds and when the EMT person is telling you what they are doing none of it makes any sense because you don't understand words anymore you just know feelings of loss and agony. When the words start to sound familiar, you realise that he is indeed not dead but injured and is being airlifted to Chattanooga where the hospital has a reconnective surgery unit. The man you know of as the most precise and careful person has had that one moment of inattentiveness that let this accident happen.

This is what happened:
Bill had caught two fingers in a chain that he was lubricating and it had sliced off the tips. It took me a while to calm down and decide what to do. I figured he would be in surgery and recovery for a while, possibly heavily drugged, and so I decided to get some sleep before I drove for several hours in the dark because visiting hours started after 10 AM and my getting there any sooner would have a tired and frustrated me sitting in a waiting room for hours. After tossing and turning, I realised that I was not going to be rested to drive to Chattanooga, so I phoned the hospital for an update and found out that the doctor had just sewn up the tips of his fingers rather than do the surgery and they were about to discharge him (at 2:30 AM!!!), with an unfillable pain prescription (their pharmacy didn't open until 9 AM) and no way home. I hastily packed stuff, willy-nilly, and started out at 4:30 AM. I drove until I was too tired, pulling over to take a cat nap before continuing on. The distance seems sooo much longer when one is worried! I finally picked him up at a Walgreens (about a mile or two from the hospital) that he'd walked to so he could get his pain pills. I took him back to the apartment in Alabama, stopping at the airport to tidy up from his working and to move his car from in front of the hanger.

The pills knock him out so he is attempting to prolong the time in-between (Mr. Macho), and wants to drive himself to Spartanburg and back for the weekend. I am working on dissuading him of this, hoping to just stay here with him (doing laundry and tidying up).

With Bill, it's all "Business as usual" but IT'S NOT and of course he won't listen when I tell him he has to just rest for a few days so his body can cope with the trauma. Ruddy annoying when he just dismisses me. He won't take his pain killers, he is soooo much a man (he said he doesn't like the side effects of being groggy and out of it, but I say all the better so that he can take it easy). It is frustrating and upsetting to believe that the ONE person that I consider to be extremely careful and precise could have an accident like this. it was just a moment of inattentiveness, of course-- that's usually how accidents happen--but we are talking about BILL here, someone who always was the ideal careful person in my eyes. I can't take it in that he is injured, and he won't admit or even acknowledge that he has any thoughts or emotions about it. I feel so helpless, and have to keep reminding myself that this is not about me.

Though in some ways it is.

UPDATE; We are staying in Alabama for the weekend, Bill has been in bed most of the day. Whew! It is a bit boring though, so I cleaned the bathtub and attempted to remove the dried blood stains on his jeans and unders. They say hydrogen peroxide works wonders. I'll let you know.