Saturday in K T

I started my day with a phone visit with Jenn and Kolly.  That is always a good way to start one's day.  Weather is an issue everywhere. There, they bundle up in 11 - 12 degree weather. Here, I disrobe in 35+ weather with humidity that requires one to have advanced swimming badges in order to move around due to the moisture in the air.

I had another meltdown at the internet office yesterday and told them (elevated volume) I would  not leave without a contract for internet to my home.  I did get one, but not sure if it really is valid. I think they decided that they would just give me a sheet of paper with some scribbles on it.  While there I got a phone call from my boss. He was at the famous K T Hospital. Seems Jeff flew off his motorcycle in the feldas and was brought in by ambulance with a broken collarbone and the need for a dozen stitches in his right foot. What kind of goon wears crocs on a motorcycle?  Most people here.  Because he came and sat with me daily while I was hospitalized, I knew I had to return the favour.  After getting a contract for internet in my sweaty hands, I did all the rabbit mazes to get to the hospital from the office where I was. Only one block away from the hospital actually took me several blocks of turns and jags in order to get there.  Finding the patient with a ghostly white face and his trouser leg cut off at the knee, Adrian and I perused the situation and wondered who would be blessed with the company of this man for the weekend - or longer!  We opted for his girlfriend, and called her.  Waiting in the outpatient area, we made sure he would not try to stand up and move around.  He was quite docile with pain killers in his system at this point.    The last words we heard emitted from the patient were 'where are my crocs?'  Frankly, it is a good thing they are missing. Not the right attire for riding a bike anyway.  The sling they draped on his arm was hilarious. A wee patch of gauzy fabric that barely covered his right elbow, leaving his hand dangling below his waist.  I thought a collarbone issue required a sling that made the hand rest on the chest in an upward position? Suggested that they go to a pharmacy and see if they could fetch a proper sling for the rest of the prescribed 'sling' time. Girlfriend there, we decided we had done our job, and drove to my place to have a cooling glass of Welch's grape juice with sparkling water.