So, I did make hubby that appointment for his foot. My mom had gone with him to the appointment to entertain Diva. Diva said she had to go to this appointment, because she had to talk to the Doctor about hubby...or at least that what she said.
I beat them home from work, but I should have stayed at work. When they got home I was greated with hubby saying "I hate you...never make an appointment for me again!". I can finally see him fully and he's on crutches and has a cast of his left foot. OOPS!!
Before our trip to Disneyland, he had torn his achillies just a bit. The doctor had him use a boot and told him to stay off it. Hubby being a guy heard "Walk around and ignore everything wife and I say". Well, he has now torn his achillies half way...the point of no return. He could have had a achillies release (have no idea), but it's too far gone. His doctor gave hubby two options...
Doctor: hubby you have two options (I hope he didn't call him hubby). The first option is to wear a cast for 3 weeks or so.
Hubby: Next option! I'm not getting a cast!!!!
Doctor: Ok, the next option requires me cutting the ligament next to the achillies, drilling a hole in your heel (a bunch of other gross stuff), and attaching it to your achillies.
Hubby: I'll take the cast please.
I think I will give him one more day before I start my "I told you so" song and dance. He so deserves it this time!
1 comment:
MEN! Leave it to them to wait until the last minute to go to the doctor, then bitch about the results!
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