the regrettable survivor

i cried at my birthday lunch. in front of my friends. i was feeling sorry for myself, turning thirty, feeling lonely, i was a mess. after lunch, i headed out to the motorcycle track to watch the big state championship motocross races. my hub was racing in the veterans class. a few minutes into the race (and a few minutes before i arrived,) he was hauled away in this ambulance.
when i walked up they told me. i thought they were joking.
driving to the emergency room, i had no tears left.
when i saw him, he was worse than i thought. his eyes were black and bruised and he was shaking. he told me he loved me again and again and again and again. and again. and again.

three days later, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, i reflect on how many times this weekend:
i soaped up his armpits (3)
gave him painkillers and a glass of water but was sure to give him something hearty to eat first so he doesn't get sick to his stomach (12)
put on, changed or adjusted the slings (100)
wondered if he was going to have internal bleeding or some other unforeseen complication and not make it and leave me alone (more than a few times that first 24 hrs)
thanked heavenly father that he is okay (not nearly enough)
spent hours by his side in the hospital bed (25)
held the bedpan (mid-use) and emptied it out (8)

all things considered, his injuries are minimal. (broken collarbone, concussion, cracked shoulder.) he is doing well and he will heal quickly.

regrettably, the motorcycle came out unscathed.