Mike fell on Friday in the bathroom and I had to call 911 to come help get him back in the bed. He lost his balance and took a tumble, but wasn't injured, as far as anyone could tell, so he refused to go to the ER.

Of course, the EMT's had to come in the fire truck, so that attracted the attention of my neighbors. I still haven't figured out why they don't use a more practical vehicle for calls like mine. It took them only about 5 minutes to get here and about that long to get him back in the bed and their form filled out with the information they needed, then leave.

His occupational therapist came shortly after to make sure he was okay, and to see what progress he had made in the two weeks since she had seen him. She tried to reassure him that he was doing great and not to let the fall discourage him.

I'm not real sure he has the strength to do what they're saying he can do. He had made several attempts to push up with his strong arm to lift himself to his strong knee, then get back on his feet, but was unable to do it. All this effort was accompanied by language that would make a sailor blush, so I was real tempted to just leave him in the floor, especially when the cursing was directed at me personally. I told him he was making a real good case for nursing home care. At least they have more than one person who can help get him off the floor if he falls, and they don't know him well enough to be hurt by the things he says.

The rest of my week-end has been unusually pleasant with a wedding shower on Saturday, visits with friends, church today, lunch at Pan Asia with friend Jan, dinner at Soulshine Pizza with friend Sandra, and beautiful weather. Life is mostly good.