Tomorrow, I'm going to accompany my parents while my dad has surgery on his rotator cuff. I'm nervous for the usual surgery reasons, but also because a few years ago Dad had a stroke and he's been on Plavix (blood thinner) and baby aspirin (blood thinner) ever since, and he was instructed earlier in the week to stop taking both of those medications. I didn't know that and like a fool, kept asking him to do things for me.
Case in point: Last week, I mentioned to Dad that it'd be a good time to see what's wrong with my car, because something has been wrong with it since before we spent extra to tow it from Missouri to Wisconsin. He took a look, and now we're almost sure it can be narrowed down to one of six things we originally thoiught might be the problem with it. We'll know for sure when someone else gives it a look. Turns out, I might have very well been right in my first assessment, a year ago: Damn, the car's broken. It might not be worth it to fix it.
After Dad dropped off all of the dirt and the trailer it came on, Bruce unloaded it, despite screaming back-muscles. How fantastic is my husband? More fantastic than is easily explainable. He's inexplicable. I'm so lucky.
