You can’t make this stuff up…
One evening, a month or so ago, I decided to run a quick errand. In my haste to leave, I left my cell phone sitting on the couch. Usually I just leave myself sitting on the couch, but that’s a topic for another blog.
I was gone longer than expected and Mrs. R became concerned that maybe I had developed car trouble and needed some help, so she decided to call me. She was sitting about 6 feet away from where I left my phone when she dialed my number.
Apparently my phone rang immediately after she dialed, and Mrs. R thought it was strange that someone else would be calling me at exactly the same time as she was, but she also knew that I was expecting a couple of calls. So Mrs. R answered my phone. It was very thoughtful of her, and I’m sure she had a nice conversation with herself…
What goes around comes around…
This past weekend, I went to the local building supply store to get some stuff, but mostly because I was running low on testosterone. Mrs. R said she might go visit her friend and run a couple of errands while I was gone.
I came home and unloaded the supplies to the backyard. Marci, our Golden Retriever, was excited to see me outside and was whining and generally making a nuisance of herself, and demanding to come outside with me. It’s really kind of annoying when she does this, and if you’re inside while it’s going on it’s impossible to ignore.
Anyway, a few minutes later I was standing in the garage on the exact spot where Mrs. R parks her car, you know, when she’s home, when my phone rang. It was Mrs. R, and she wanted to know if I was home yet.
“Yes” I said disgustedly, “I’m standing in the garage. How could you not know I’m here with all of the racket Marci is making?”
“I’m at the library honey. I’ll be home soon,” Mrs. R patiently explained. “Oh, and don’t forget to take your medicine. It’s on the counter…”
And now, for the encore performance…
One of our cats recently developed a problem that requires Mrs. R and me to give her an IV on a regular basis. We were at the Vets’ office for about an hour where they patiently trained us on how to do this relatively simple procedure. It was decided that Mrs. R would be the “needle-sticker-inner” and I would be the “cat-holder-downer.” We were told that it was very important for the inner workings of the IV bag to be kept sterile and to remember to change the needle before each use. It all seemed like sound advice to us.
The very next day, we were ready. To hang the IV, I had fashioned a hook from an old wire clothes hanger (it seemed important to us to have all four hands available) and we had converted to kids’ bathroom into a “treatment room.” All that was left to do was to change the needle and get going.
At this point I think it’s important to note that needles in the veterinary medicine world are every bit as sharp as needles in the human medicine world…
When Mrs. R tried to pull the needle out of the tube that runs from the IV, the protective cover came loose and she sliced her finger, at which time it started to bleed. I asked if she was OK, and she said yes, despite the drops of blood on her blouse.
I then offered to remove the needle, and being a “visual learner” I promptly sliced my finger in the exact same way as Mrs. R had.
Uh, one thing we forgot when we set up the treatment room was to stock it with basic first aid supplies.
So now we have two bleeding adults, an unharmed cat in desperate need of the IV, and no way to stop the bleeding fingers. Our options were to go downstairs and get some bandages, or call 911. We chose the former. So, while I stood in the bathroom with a Kleenex wrapped around my finger as I held it above my head, the wounded Mrs. R bravely went and found first aid supplies.
We were then able to successfully treat each others injuries, get the needle changed, and give the cat her IV.
I’m glad to report that the cat is doing just fine, but Mrs. R and I have a couple of sore fingers…
One evening, a month or so ago, I decided to run a quick errand. In my haste to leave, I left my cell phone sitting on the couch. Usually I just leave myself sitting on the couch, but that’s a topic for another blog.
I was gone longer than expected and Mrs. R became concerned that maybe I had developed car trouble and needed some help, so she decided to call me. She was sitting about 6 feet away from where I left my phone when she dialed my number.
Apparently my phone rang immediately after she dialed, and Mrs. R thought it was strange that someone else would be calling me at exactly the same time as she was, but she also knew that I was expecting a couple of calls. So Mrs. R answered my phone. It was very thoughtful of her, and I’m sure she had a nice conversation with herself…
What goes around comes around…
This past weekend, I went to the local building supply store to get some stuff, but mostly because I was running low on testosterone. Mrs. R said she might go visit her friend and run a couple of errands while I was gone.
I came home and unloaded the supplies to the backyard. Marci, our Golden Retriever, was excited to see me outside and was whining and generally making a nuisance of herself, and demanding to come outside with me. It’s really kind of annoying when she does this, and if you’re inside while it’s going on it’s impossible to ignore.
Anyway, a few minutes later I was standing in the garage on the exact spot where Mrs. R parks her car, you know, when she’s home, when my phone rang. It was Mrs. R, and she wanted to know if I was home yet.
“Yes” I said disgustedly, “I’m standing in the garage. How could you not know I’m here with all of the racket Marci is making?”
“I’m at the library honey. I’ll be home soon,” Mrs. R patiently explained. “Oh, and don’t forget to take your medicine. It’s on the counter…”
And now, for the encore performance…
One of our cats recently developed a problem that requires Mrs. R and me to give her an IV on a regular basis. We were at the Vets’ office for about an hour where they patiently trained us on how to do this relatively simple procedure. It was decided that Mrs. R would be the “needle-sticker-inner” and I would be the “cat-holder-downer.” We were told that it was very important for the inner workings of the IV bag to be kept sterile and to remember to change the needle before each use. It all seemed like sound advice to us.
The very next day, we were ready. To hang the IV, I had fashioned a hook from an old wire clothes hanger (it seemed important to us to have all four hands available) and we had converted to kids’ bathroom into a “treatment room.” All that was left to do was to change the needle and get going.
At this point I think it’s important to note that needles in the veterinary medicine world are every bit as sharp as needles in the human medicine world…
When Mrs. R tried to pull the needle out of the tube that runs from the IV, the protective cover came loose and she sliced her finger, at which time it started to bleed. I asked if she was OK, and she said yes, despite the drops of blood on her blouse.
I then offered to remove the needle, and being a “visual learner” I promptly sliced my finger in the exact same way as Mrs. R had.
Uh, one thing we forgot when we set up the treatment room was to stock it with basic first aid supplies.
So now we have two bleeding adults, an unharmed cat in desperate need of the IV, and no way to stop the bleeding fingers. Our options were to go downstairs and get some bandages, or call 911. We chose the former. So, while I stood in the bathroom with a Kleenex wrapped around my finger as I held it above my head, the wounded Mrs. R bravely went and found first aid supplies.
We were then able to successfully treat each others injuries, get the needle changed, and give the cat her IV.
I’m glad to report that the cat is doing just fine, but Mrs. R and I have a couple of sore fingers…
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