Testosterone Kills
I love my husband, I really do. But sometimes, sometimes he's an idiot.Let's flashback, shall we, to last Thursday. Prince Charming was visiting our local hometown non-chain pharmacy for some baby ibuprofen. He was carrying Bunny Boop into the pharmacy with him when he slipped and fell on a patch of ice that he blames on the sloppiness of the pharmacy owner (but we'll leave the blame for the ice alone). Prince Charming had enough time, but barely, to move his body in the fall to protect Bunny so that she would not be injured. And, in fact, she came out of the incident a bit scared, but not in the least harmed.
Prince Charming, on the other hand, took a serious hit to his right elbow. He cracked the thing good and it split open. He picked himself and Bunny up, dusted off, went into the pharmacy, and conducted his business, being sure to mention the icy patch to the pharmacist. He knew that he was bleeding, but he had no idea how bad it was. He dropped Bunny off at daycare and went home.
He discovered the severity of the injury while he was trying to peel his shirt away from the wound. He thought it might need stitches, but decided instead to wash it off and put a band-aid on the injured area.
When I arrived home later that day I took a good look at the wound. For my own mental health, I insisted on cleaning and bandaging the wound again. I told him he should have gotten stitches, but at this point the wound was already closed. Prince Charming complained of some pain (only normal) and took some Tylenol.
Fast forward to last night. When Prince Charming woke up, he complained that his elbow hurt. Not only that, it was swollen. Not dramatically, but obviously. What was more obvious, to me at least, was the infection. The area was inflamed, red, and hot to the touch. This, to me, said INFECTION. Now, I can't claim an md, but I do know a few things. I told him he was going to the doctor, no question. He said, "we'll see" and then he took another Tylenol.
This morning when he got home from work he had a hard time taking his coat off. Right there, folks, that should have been the final straw. He awkwardly and gingerly slipped his jacket off and I came a bit unglued. His elbow was bigger than a baseball and was fast approaching softball size. The area of inflamation was larger as was the area putting off heat. The infection was spreading very fast. I told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was going to see a doctor today.
When I got to work, I made him an appointment with our family practitioner and he saw the doctor at 11:30. The doctor told him it was very good that he came in, that it is good to catch these things as soon as possible. Whereupon my wonderful husband had to admit that he wouldn't be here were it not for my insistence on the matter. The doctor put him on antibiotics, told him to take at least 2 days off of work, and not to bend his elbow if at all possible.
Did I mention that after the initial injury my husband cut off some of the flesh that protruded from the wound before bandaging it? Heaven help me, I didn't learn this for a couple of days after the fact. Now I wonder exactly what device he used in the trimming. I'd bet dollars to dogshit he didn't sterilize the item, nevermind the stupidity of trimming meat from your elbow in the first place.
Yes, I love my husband, but sometimes he is an idiot. Testosterone messes with his cognitive skills. Yes. Testosterone Kills.
Beware, lest this happen to you, too.
Labels: I love my husband
