So I'm cleaning before I go to Sainsburys before we got to the rugby and Husband's working in the garden when he calls me, 'Can you come and help me, please?'
I tut about how I've got my own work to do but wander out only to find him sitting on the floor in the kitchen.
'I've gashed my leg,' he says.
And, sure enough, there's a stream of blood.
'And what exactly do you want me to do?' I ask. Which may sound hard-hearted but I am renowned for my inability to deal with blood. The blood donor organisation has banned me because of my tendency to faint.
'Get me some paper towel to staunch the bleeding.'
I get the towel and even try to dab the wound - while keeping my eyes averted.
'I think it needs stitching,' Husband says.
That involves a trip to the other side of Swansea.
'Well, come on, let's go,' I say.
'Hand me that scarf.'
'What for? It's not cold.'
'To tie round my leg.'
'That's my best scarf! you're not using that!'
I find him another one - with red on so the blood won't show - and I realise I haven't showered. I haven't even washed. 'Could you wait until I've ... no, okay, let's go.'
Waiting to see the triage nurse I take a sudden interest in the footballers on television. I'm not actually interested: I just want to take my mind off the fact that I'm getting hot and bothered. I'm not very good in hospitals either: I've fainted just visiting before now.
Now I'm home and Husband is still in hospital waiting to be stuck together. Apparently they don't stitch now. I've just eaten a bowl of Frosties for lunch and I'm about to shower while Elder Son goes to fetch Husband.
And I can't believe I didn't take a photo!
* * * * * * * * *
It's been 55 years since Wales last beat the All Blacks. In the intervening years they've lost to them 19 times. It must be 20 times lucky. I was one the last time Wales won and this is the first time I've been to an All Blacks game. It is destiny or ... what's the word? There was a film with the name. Serendipity. Or maybe Stupidity.
I was in prison last Sunday and talking to some of the men about the game. They laughed when I said I was going but I really think we can win. I mean if you don't think there's any chance why bother? You've got to go into a game, whether as player or spectator, with hope. There's always hope.
Must go and shower now else I'll never be ready.
Come on, Wales!!!!!!
14 comments:
I don't do sport but as I like you
"COME ON WALES", lol @ husband (sounds wrong) I have one (well, not husband, partner) who always causes some sort of injury to himself... *rolls eyes*
Poor Husband! He should make sure of doing things like this somewhere else! Will he be well enough for the match?
Is there no Casuality/ER at Singleton?
This is progress.
Bloody Men!
Reminds me of a neat little poem of the same name by Wendy Cope, see
( http://www.savory.de/cope.htm)
Has he stuck back together alright?
I get quite squeamish too. Although I have had to get used to hospital visiting this yeear!
Ah, poor baby! lol Hope it all sticks well so he can make it to the game with you.
Poor husband! LOL! In my house it's the other way round, which I think is more usual: he is the one flapping around saying 'What do I do?' while I mop up the blood and find dressings etc and make assessments about hospital trips.
Hope the right team wins! And your husband heals OK. ;)
Sorry about the husband. I had a rush of longing for Sainsbury's, I remember going with my Grandmother for rashers of bacon. We always bought the green with the rind on. We simply can't get it here in Canada. My Granny was from Tondu and my Grandad was from Bridgend. I have cousins in South Wales but have lost touch. Difficult to find now I expect as my maiden name was James and that has to be a large percentage of those living in Wales.
You trading in this husband and getting a new model? :)
I hope your husband is on fine Liz...and I hope he is well enough to enjoy the match with you. Hey, you managed to get him to the hospital....that's the most important thing. Not everyone is cut out to handle emergencies and bloody situations perfectly. The important thing is that he's okay.
Good luck with your husband...and your team.
Men just can't be trusted on their own, amanda.
Oh he got to the match, dragonstar. But he's English.
Not a full-time one, aileni.
Wendy cope is brilliant, stu.
Yes, he's got three bits of magic tape on it. But they dissolve in water so it makes showering difficult, suburbia.
Elder Son has inherited my phobia, cherrypie. I sent him to fetch Husband from he hospital and when he got there, he remembered!
Leslie, he's fine though he needs to keep his leg up for a period to rest it really.
Well, jay, the right team didn't win ...
My father's surname is James, vic grace, but he came from the west of Wales.
I don't think I'd find another who'd put up with me, james!
Joy, thank you, yes, he is fine.
Poor husband, accident prone is he? At least no one can say you hit him on the head this time. I hope he made the game too, even if it was not the hoped for result.
can hardly believe you forgot to take a photo :-)
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