When the Doc Said No... by Keith D. Guernsey She wrapped my foot in an old towel, taped it in place and said get dressed we are going to the hospital (we were very fortunate that the very best hospital in the state of Georgia was only four miles away.). I threw on my sweatshirt, a hat and off we went. She helped me to the car and we drove to the ER in record time. We walked in (well she walked-I hobbled) to an almost empty emergency room. She sat me down and filled out the requisite paperwork.
Susan and I walked into the house on a balmy Saturday after a wonderful block party over at the clubhouse and then disaster struck. After a couple of adult beverages (no really ...I only had two!), I ran smack dab into a chair with a very sharp wooden leg. It began bleeding and I rushed to the bathroom so as not to get any more blood on our new carpet. I told Susan that I was just going to put a Band-Aid on my foot and go to bed. Her response was, "look down at that pool of blood on the floor and say that again." Her caregiver instincts took over and she sprang into action.
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