Sunday, January 16, 2011


The Disabled Guy has been working in the shop a lot. Normally, he doesn't work out there this time of year. Its cold and without rewiring the entire shop and possibly the house, there's no way to heat it efficiently. I've suggested many times that he use a wood stove. I've been in a few garages where a wood stove in the corner warmed a room much larger than his shop.

He just finished building a plant stand for an orchestra parent we know. And now he's working on a new sofa for our living room. I know, you're thinking to yourself that he just built one. He did, very recently. But he thinks its uncomfortable to sit on and wants one that is "squishier". I'm fairly sure he's trying to get it done before NASCAR season takes off.

He came into the house today, inquired as to what I'm watching on TV ("NCIS" marathon, in case you're wondering- I don't usually watch this show, but its not bad) and went to the basement (through the kitchen). Moments later he comes back upstairs. "What the hell?" and he walked into the dining room (where I am, with the computer and I can see the TV in the living room) asking, "Do you see any blood- oh, there it is..."

He was dripping blood from a scrape on the knuckles of his paralyzed hand. His hand is quite cold (because he doesn't wear gloves or mittens, even while shoveling snow), so the blood wasn't streaming as it would have been because of his blood thinners. Some heavy stuff was going down on the show and I told him to wash it up and come back in here so I could finish the job.

I told him to "hold up" his arm, so I could reach his hand. He swept up his paralyzed arm with his good arm and made a noise- something like: "Hhhuuuwaaaaaaaaaa!" and it ended all breathe-y, almost asthmatic. I asked, "What are you doing?"

He made more noises, as if in a bad martial arts movie, again, ending in the asthmatic wheeze-y sound. "You okay?" I ask.

DG: "Of course I am." He started giggling maniacally. I asked how he fell down. "I dunno. I was walking and then my feet got caught up and I went down. Like that Tom Petty song."

Me: "You mean 'Free Falling'?"

DG: "Yeah, I was just going down, and the garbage can fell on me." (its plastic, don't worry).

Me: "That doesn't sound much like a free-fall." I had to tell him again to raise his arm up so I could get to it and he made that breathe-y martial arts noise again. "What the hell are you doing?!"

DG: "Humming!"

Me: "That's not humming."

DG: "I didn't say I was humming! Where do you get that?"

I repeated what we just said to each other. "Humming!"

*Just now, he came in and had me pop a blister- "Or a splinter, I'm not sure what it is."- it was a blister*

Anyway, while I put a band-aid on his knuckle, he argued with me as to the fact that he exclaimed "Humming!" in reply to my question. And now I have to change the channel because I've seen this episode of "NCIS" and I didn't like it the first time around.

No comments: