Friday held a pleasant surprise with an invite from the sibling-in-laws for corn chowder. Bro-in-law can cook! And sis-in-law always has bowl-over stories about her medical school patients, (who remain nameless, HIPAA-lovers). This night was no fail, holding in store a lovely anecdote about a non-English speaking man who could only say something hurt, not what, and not while doing anything. So when the soon-to-be-doc ordered for PT (yup, physical therapy, what the hubby does), the therapist soon found out, "he can't walk; he won't walk." Nope, she replied. [PT husband shakes his head ... What would you rather have us do, Cary?" sis-in-law's friend and co-med student asks with a grin. Tell us what we should do in that situation, and we'll do it." {lots of laughing here}] Meanwhile, back in the hospital, the therapist moves the patient's arms and legs around, the therapist's head shaking.
Then this story comes out ... Earlier that day ... Cary heads to a slightly forsaken strip of homes to do some home-health PT on a man. Schizophrenic. Wandering around the complex a bit to find the right patient, he spots a guy, thinks maybe, and asks his name. Oh! You're the man I'm looking for. "I am!" His eyes widen. ["Cary!" sis-in-law says, you just freaked him out. Schizophrenic, not paranoid schizophrenic, other listeners toss around and clarify. "No, he didn't like that, I'm sure," she says. {Lawson family twinkle going all over the place here.}] Anyway, so this is the guy, and a strong dose of no-help PT later (since nothing is actually hurting him either, but some other doctor again ordered PT, ha)--and a string of conversations later that are to die for--Cary heads home to get paid for nothing essentially. Here's a sampling of that to die for conversation: Where does it hurt? / Well, I have a belly button, and there were these white cats.
These are the hilarious and brilliant people who make up my family, and it's only Friday night!
Just kidding, not much happened Saturday because I spent most of it sleeping or alone. Do you ever have those days when you could just lie in bed forever, or at least until your neck starts aching and your head feels too heavy and you've actually just been lying there awake for a while thinking about how you need to clean your closet and your bathroom cupboard so they're easier to maneuver... (It's sad when you open one dresser drawer, and they all slide out because the clothes are rubbing and stuck to the next drawer up, or you pull out a hair dryer and out comes a flat iron, curling iron, hair brush, hair gel, extra deodorant, extra toothpaste. Got it?).
So the Aly Sunday blues were almost nonexistent today since I woke to working storage.
Hip still hurting. Started on mile six of a 10-miler. Do 16.2 more? Ah, darn. Oh well, gonna try. One week 'til marathon day.
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