I couldn’t guess that I would ever be resting in the middle of a hospital emergency room right now.
It all seems so freaking surreal.
It was barely a minute ago when I stood in the middle of the large unfinished basement, holding a flashlight so my husband could flip the stupid breaker switch. I should have told him to call an electrician or even an Heating and A/C serviceman. Anything would be better than this. Who, though, am I to argue with my husband when he has these hare-brained ideas in his head and confidence in his soul? I told him I didn’t guess it was a wonderful system for him to go over and touch the electric panel. I tried to convince him to wait, but he wanted his AC back as soon as possible. He hated summer time and there was no way he was going to go through it entirely separate from AC, even if it was just for a couple minutes. I called his closest sibling, who is an electrician, and he promised to show up in about a minute. My husband apparently was not going to wait a minute, because he was more than capable of taking care of a tripped breaker. I know he was utterly wrong, because he is now in the emergency room. The breaker panel is still sitting in the dark, and the a/c isn’t finally working. The two of us are worse off than before, of course, since he now has a screwdriver in his foot. When he felt the slight shock to his meaty finger, he jumped back, and the screwdriver fell out of his hand, landing right between his foot bones. I’m not sure if they’ll be keeping him in the hospital for much longer. I can only hope his sibling has the power on and the a/c running when the doctors finally send him home.