Problem being he didn't come directly home from work. He left work about 1:00 or something... and returned home at 8:45 or around there.
And, he brought home something with him. About 20 pounds of gauze bandages, two peices of paper with perscriptions on them, and a bunch of stitches. Yeah, he got himself into a small "accident" last night. One of the boxes he was stocking had a broken jar in it. Now, normally, when you open a box, if you see wet sides or you see only 23 or less jars, where their should be 24, you approach very carefully.
But, the box was full. It's just that somehow, a broken jar got into the box, and then either through neglect or someone being a jackass, the box was filled, sealed, and sent off.
They wanted to write Todd out for four days or so. But, we can't do that. That would completely throw us off track so bad it would take six months to catch up. We're hanging by a thread right now. I have got to find a job, but Todd keeps saying, "Don't even try till we're back from vacation." I sorta have to agree with him on that. It won't do much good to find a job now and say, "Oh, BTW? In three weeks or so, I'll need a week off."
I am however, probably going to start knocking on doors before I leave, getting applications and maybe even dropping them off. I still have the restrictions, thanks to their being only one car in the family. But... maybe I can get something local enough so that even if they need me to work hours my husband needs the car, I can walk. Yeah, I don't want to walk at night either, but I also am getting awful tired of being the big bitch who panics every time I'm at all worried that Todd can't work.
The upshot of this was that Todd called work and they can use him for "light duty" for the next few days. Blocking and stuff, that he can do with one hand, if necessary.
He's going to be all right. Being a guy and all, they gave him massive drugs to keep him happily in la-la-land. Even he snorted over this. When I accidentally drilled my finger right down to the bone and right into the bone, I got tylenol. Not tylenol with codine, just regular tylenol. He's got vicoden, and a script for something else stronger, just in case the vicoden aren't enough. Not trying to minimalize his injury, but even he said the doctor was of the opinion that it was boarderline if it even needed stitches, it's more a case of, "Better safe than sorry."
Yes, I'm very glad he's going to be all right. He's much more important than anything else.
But, I feel awful guilty at the sense of relief I felt when he discovered he could still work.
I should go for my walk. I could stick around here and make sure Todd is sleeping comfortably, but... well, he is. He's been sleeping comfortably for the last couple hours. Before that, he was in a drug induced coma, watching TV and drooling. "How's your hand, dear?"
"The one that was hurt."
He holds up the left one. "Oh, it's fine."
"That's not the hand that was hurt, hon."
He giggles. "Wow, okay... uhm... I guess that one is fine too."
"Yes, and don't you wish you were me? I know I do!" More insane giggling.
Well, at least he seems to be enjoying himself...