I have had many injuries over the last few years and him indoors has always been wonderful. Fetching, carrying, shopping, cleaning, cooking. Actually, no, not cooking, what am I talking about?! I did that even when my hands were red raw with granulomas, wearing gloves. He knows better than to try and take over in my kitchen anyway, likely to get his fingers chopped off with a giant cleaver.
So yesterday when I got the call to dash to accident & emergency as some idiot had opened their car door right in the path of my man’s 23mph-bombing-through-Rusholme bicycle, I sped over there in bestest Florence Nightingale mode.
Incidentally, these are the top ten ways to have a bike / car coupling, his was Number 2:
Whilst waiting for x-rays, he told me that he’d been bounced in between a car and a van when the door opened, Ooooo just like Brad Pitt I said, and got a dirty look.
I coo-ed, stroked his shoulders, and made all the right GF noises, but as soon as the lovely nurse had ascertained there was no break, I really couldn’t take anymore of the projectile vomiting Somalian lady opposite and we were outta there. I even got him Chinese food and Peroni on the way home. Top girlfriend. So does it make me a truly bad person that it’s less that 24hrs later and I’ve had enough of his injury already?
He keeps coming in my office (warm) from outside (cold) and leaving the door open. Telling me he’s bored. I am finding him things that he can do with one hand. No comments on that one please. And the arm injury seems to have affected his brain, he just went out for bird seed and mushrooms. Two items. And came back without the mushrooms. He was supposed to be on nights so I would have had the whole bed to myself and slept in fabulous full sprawl mode. But I can’t be annoyed with him because he’s an injured soldier. And I love him.
Please Lord, let there be a miraculous recovery soon, as I am being forced to recognise that I have not got the type of personality to be patient with patients.