Bob, bless him, helped me to start reading again!
It only took a piece of re-bar, a gapping leg wound, two ambulances and an ER visit with multiple stitches.
He just gives and gives and gives!
So to start, he's fine and catnapping in his lazyboy. *thank you Jesus!*
This little story starts a month ago when we opened our mammoth white whale of a pool. For over thirty days we've been weather watching and doing every thing we can to get the pool up and running. The weather people have had a hate on for us.
On Friday we get the news.
And it's going to be bad.
(I swear we do some of the most physical outdoor work during heat waves)
Bob, loving his young bride (that's right, I said young) starts tiling the pool like his tail is on fire. Tiling is finished and water is ordered.
The pool is filled almost to the top (squeeeee) but the water is 58 degrees and well, neither of us are that brave. Still, Bob has plans and he has called in my father for re-enforcement. Currently, the ladder comes up on the far side of the pool and we've decided we want it moved to the other side. I figured Bob would pour a new cement pad. Nope. A concrete saw was rented.
Already I'm antsy. I actually put the wireless phone front and center in the kitchen and I make jokes about 911 calls.
I leave the house. I don't do well when I think accidents can happen so off I go for water testing and groceries.
I come home around 2pm and Bob and my Dad are taking a break (humidex is 40 degrees Celsius) and they are covered head to toe in dust and dirt and grime. They inform me the cutting is almost done. Bob gets up after a few minutes and heads back out to the pool. My Dad jokingly says he's not done his water (hey, he's not as young as my hubby and it's HOT) and we start yammering.
I'm not sure how long we were in the house before I noticed my husband running.
I've never seen Bob run before. I mean, the grass was being torn up. I believe I did say out loud, 'Bob's running'.
My Dad turns to the window and we're trying to decipher hand signals.
Then Bob gets out of the pool area and all I see is red from the knee down.
I'm ashamed to admit my first thought and possible words were, 'I can't do this'. My father headed towards where Bob was running while I went in the opposite direction. Bad Cindy.
Bob had a towel on the wound so fast I didn't even see it. My Dad however, had gotten an eye full and well, he's not good with blood. But his stiffened those knees and was ready to help.
Bob got his directives out immediately. More towels and call an ambulance.
My Dad asked if we could drive him. To which I said 'NO!' cause I had visions of spewing blood and me trying to drive. I had the phone already and was hearing the rings when it occurred to me that my Dad needed to move away from Bob. So we switched places.
I think my Dad was extremely grateful.
I held the towels and kept the torqued to stem the bleeding.
That's when Bob tells the story. It wasn't the saw that got him, it was the rebar (huge steel bars used when pouring concrete). He had just finished cutting the metal and had put that saw away. He then decided he could lift the 300lb slab of concrete by himself.
That's when he felt the heat and looked down.
The rebar sliced his leg (thankfully in the fatty tissue) open and his first thought was 'wtf?' followed by 'that's gonna need more than a band-aid'.
It was hours later that I finally took a look at the wound and it was very nasty. Four inches long, splayed open and about 3/4 of an inch deep. *shudder*
We were sent to an older hospital and tended by a surgical resident. An artery was slightly cut and needed an interior stitch. Then two more interior stitches to help close the wound. Finished up with 13 stitches.
Thing is, these stitches look so different and scary that I felt a little ill when I saw the finished result. You know baseball stitches? That's was Bob's leg looks like. Also, it's raised about 1/4 inch - it's a special way that the resident felt would help the scar fall down after the stitches came out.
Anyone want to see pictures? I'll take them when we clean it up tomorrow. Clean and dry for the next 24 hours.
Being Canada, there is always a wait and I always have a book.
Just so happens it's the book I won at Book Binge.
Jessica Andersen's Night Keepers and wow! The opening was intense and I can't wait to find out what's going on. But the stitches were finished and getting Bob home and cozy was the only thing on my mind.
Irony is the poor guy can't go swimming until the stitches are out.
14 days and counting.
Now if you'll excuse me, sleep is now very much needed.