(no subject)
DH had severe hypoglycemic episode. During struggle to (a) get his pump disconnected and (b) get some glucose into him while (c) realizing that Crashie has major infected hot spot on his head and shampooing him with the hose outside- well, I started with Crashie and couldn't leave him all sudsy- I wound up falling on my ass in the kitchen. I think I have broken my tailbone again, which will make 4 times- going for the record, here, evidently.
Finally gave DH glucagon injection and supercharged energy got my desk cleaned off and the kitchen scrubbed and the living room tidy. (Lesson to kids: if your dad is in an insulin reaction, call 911, put the dogs out back and tidy the living room. We don't want the paramedics to think we live like pigs.)
It's not what I'd call clean, but it's bearable. It means when I get home from work tomorrow, I won't be depressed just walking in. DH is out of reaction and has agreed to take Crashie to vet tomorrow. Poor baby, if they do what they've done in the past, they'll use the clippers on the infected area, which in this case is involving his forehead and eyebrows. Yes. I will get pictures.
It's 65 out- much better tonight- and it's supposed to be slightly cooler in the upcoming week.
I wrote tomorrow's schedules on the Big Board before leaving work today; it's (so far) a light day, so I promptly wrote my name in the Leave Early list. Charge nurse commented that I have a hard time working full time. I said no, I get tired, but it's not that I have a hard time working full time: I just don't like having to work for a living, and I'm always willing to leave early. I pointed out that I don't bitch when it doesn't happen, and she agreed that I'm as apt to stay late when it's busy as I am to leave early when it's not, rendering whole discussion pointless.
It's nearly midnight, and I still have to shower.
Finally gave DH glucagon injection and supercharged energy got my desk cleaned off and the kitchen scrubbed and the living room tidy. (Lesson to kids: if your dad is in an insulin reaction, call 911, put the dogs out back and tidy the living room. We don't want the paramedics to think we live like pigs.)
It's not what I'd call clean, but it's bearable. It means when I get home from work tomorrow, I won't be depressed just walking in. DH is out of reaction and has agreed to take Crashie to vet tomorrow. Poor baby, if they do what they've done in the past, they'll use the clippers on the infected area, which in this case is involving his forehead and eyebrows. Yes. I will get pictures.
It's 65 out- much better tonight- and it's supposed to be slightly cooler in the upcoming week.
I wrote tomorrow's schedules on the Big Board before leaving work today; it's (so far) a light day, so I promptly wrote my name in the Leave Early list. Charge nurse commented that I have a hard time working full time. I said no, I get tired, but it's not that I have a hard time working full time: I just don't like having to work for a living, and I'm always willing to leave early. I pointed out that I don't bitch when it doesn't happen, and she agreed that I'm as apt to stay late when it's busy as I am to leave early when it's not, rendering whole discussion pointless.
It's nearly midnight, and I still have to shower.