So I have been in the hospital or at home on my back for about a month now. Mind you, I have had such excellent progress that I would consider it a bit of a miracle.
So I get a call from Shelley letting me know that she thinks she is running out of gas on the way to the gas station. Quite frightening for me, in that I have not ventured off our property for a month. Let alone sat at the dinner table for more than six meals in the last month. Confirmed. She cannot make it up the hill just before the gas station. What do we do? We have a gas can with gas in it here at the house... So I think to myself, I had better take a muscle relaxant just to be sure my back doesn't start spasming on the way. So I pop my preemptive strike on pain... lift the gas can into the 4Runner and drive off. Fortunately we had a baby sitter here, or I would have been forced to throw the boys into the car without car seats. Got to love Mexico!
As I drive away from the house, I am thinking of Trav and his awesome display of manliness. I didn't get greasy like him, but I did end up with that lovely smell of gasoline on my hands. I got Shelley back on the road, and made it back home no worse for ware.
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4 comments:
single tear, man...single tear.
I have to have role models. And you sure are a model, ahem, a role model.
Hey, Jeremiah! Just read some of your back blogs... so sorry to hear about your back. I didn't realize you were in a serious situation. I'll be praying for you!
Thanks Linda!
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