The fair Katherine works on her feet all day as a scrub tech. She has busy days for certain. It is not uncommon for Katherine to … gracefully, yes … that’s the word … ask for a foot massage. Which, she deserves on a daily basis.

Now to me …

Knowing that the fair Katherine deserves a daily foot massage does not equate to my making such an offer every afternoon upon her arrival home. The petty, little boy makes her ask. (There is an outside chance that’s a harsh judgement.) What a shit!

To bring this into focus for those merrit (“married” for you low landers) less than 24 years … this is how this little scenario plays out “real time”.

At some point today, Katherine was assisting on rolling a bed out of surgery and her foot was caught under the wheel at an angle such that the bed came to a complete stop. The pressure exerted by a gurney on a sudden stop with a foot? Don’t really know, but I’d venture it is a lot!

Whilst I was considering fair Kathrine … I thought how this afternoon would be ideal for a foot massage. Then I thought, “Oh, her foot is severely bruised and painful.” My immediate thought … get this, my IMMEDIATE thought … was, “Yes! Go to her now!” For I knew … have you guessed? … I knew, she would say, “Oh thank you! Not today though. My foot really hurts.”

Now THAT is who I am. A shit, but human. (Aye God … but I never thought I would see so far!)

Wint