6.30.10

Dear Husband,

This week you had the patience to deal with the following:

1.  Me being on call: my pager going off at 3 am, my blackberry going off at 4am, me screaming bloody murder after I hung up with the coke guy.  Me screaming bloody murder after the nurse acted like a 4 yr old and said, “She called me bossy first” (almost as bad as the time a nurse told me she thought we had a ‘5 second rule for needles dropped on the floor’ after she dropped one and still used it).  Me screaming bloody murder when the lady is yelling for no reason because I have already fixed her problem and I should be the one yelling because she woke me up at 2am for NOTHING.  I never actually screamed bloody murder, but I was not exactly Happy Harriet.  Being on call is stressful.  Thank you for not leaving me because sometimes usually my job is a ridiculous circus freak show.

2.  Me having 2 migraines in one weekend.  Thank you for picking up my slack.

Your pops is retired as of today.  At his retirement reception, the things people said about him…I see them in you.  You are scary brilliant, too.  You have amazing ideas, too.  You are a family man, too.  You are a Jesus loving man, too.  You are a good man, Devin Michael.  His retirement also means you better get on your bike because you two have a 60 mile race 2 years from today and the stakes are high…and so are the temptations for me to take him up on his proposition.

Yesterday morning I woke up to what felt like a roundhouse kick to my throat.  When I opened my eyes and pushed a large, tree-like structure off of my trachea, I thought it was your arm, but it was indeed your leg and you did indeed roundhouse kick me in the throat.  In your sleep.

Let’s not do that again, Chuck Norris.

Wife