Relocation and Dislocation

Yet another weekend has come and gone way too fast. The high point this weekend was definitely some grillin' and chillin' at Ben's on Friday night. It was a beautiful evening and those in attendance soaked it in while slugging down beers and eating some tasty, charcoal-grilled meats. Nick had recently returned from Canada and brought back some tasty beer, most notably Stella. I had first heard of Stella from my stepbrother Matt back in December and have been wanting to try it ever since. Nick was kind enough to take a bottle home to enjoy later, as Megan and I called it an early night since both had a lot to do the next day.

Megan got up well before me at about 6:30 and headed down to the Civic to help prepare for the influx of New Orleans evacuees and their pets. I slept in until almost 9:00 and went to help our friends at Rockbrook Animal Clinic move into their new space. I was more than happy to do it after everything that Marty and Cheri have done for us, but that doesn't mean it still didn't suck. Lots of heavy lifting, including a washing machine. I freakin' hate moving washing machines. The most nerve-wracking moment of the day came when I was put in charge of installing bracket into a wall to hold up a small TV. Now, I have no idea why I was asked to do this, as I am the farthest thing from a carpenter you'll ever meet. But, since someone needed to do it, I figured why not? I 'll tell you why not, because even with a stud finder, I somehow missed the goddamn stud. I drilled three holes, attached the bracket, went to attach the TV, and as soon as I did, it started to pull out of the wall. So, a little embarrassed, I got some help. Thankfully, no one else could get the stud finder to work right either, so I felt like less of a nincompoop. We eventually found the stud by trial and error above the ceiling tiles, and correctly installed the bracket. Lucky for me again, the bracket was wide enough to cover up my mistakes and I was able to relax and not feel like a total idiot.

That was more than enough excitement for me for one day, so after we called it a day at 2:30, I went home to do what I really set out to do on Saturday: watch college football and drink beer. It was great. The games were great, but I'm telling you, that Stella was even better. I truly enjoyed the rest my afternoon and evening doing absolutely nothing.

However, I really felt like a P.O.S. later, because as I was kicking back, Megan was busting her ass down at the Civic. She called and asked me if I could bring some worklights down during halftime of the Nebraska game and I told her it was the least I could do (and for those of you who don't think that this was any sort of a sacrifice, let me tell you, it led to me missing a 57 yard Cory Ross run.) I returned home and finished watching the game, watched the Ohio State/Texas game, and even played some Playstation. At about midnight I called Megan if she was planning on coming home any time soon (keep in mind that she had been working since 7:00 AM!) Megan said that she was finishing up, but wanted to know if she could swing by and pick me so I could go with her to the shelter to drop off the van she was driving and pick up her car. Megan arrived at our house at about 1:00, and As we rode to the shelter together she told me about her day, what she had been doing, and the stories of some of the people she had met. Then, almost in passing, she told me that she had dislocated her shoulder.

Yeah, she dislocated her shoulder at the airport at around 8:30, had the on-sight paramedics put it back into place, ignored their instructions to go to the hospital, and continued working until after midnight. And here she was driving us back to the shelter, talking about it like it was no big deal. I never thought I would say this, but apparently, my wife is a badass.

We dropped of the van at the shelter, picked up Megan's car and some Taco Bell, made it back home by about 2:00, and crashed at about 3:00. They say no good deed goes unpunished, and Megan's was no exception. She was in a lot of pain on Sunday, but I think that we were both proud of what she had done. Not proud of her injury, per se, but proud of what she and those with her were able to accomplish. In turn, I was also able to feel less worthless, as I spent the day taking care of her. And if you're thinking that there's a little reversal in gender roles here, you aren't the only one. But, if you think that I'd rather be the one laid up with a sore shoulder, then you're mistaken. Just call me Christian Thom, Male Nurse.