Fred comes up and gets me. He had told me about his toe last night. Fred’s a diabetic, and his blood sugar is about 430 most of the time. When a person’s blood sugar is this high, strange things will happen to their body. Freddy’s sock was pink, and his toe had split open, and was oozing pus all over the place, then the pain started shooting up his leg. Ouch. So me, him, and Bambi jump into the pickup. He had to wait 7 hours at Truman, the inner city Truman, where they are always bring people in that are all shot up. They fixed him up though. Fred was afraid he was going to have his toe amputated.
It gives a good feeling to your ego, to help someone else. There are/were so many people that I couldn’t, or didn’t help. My poor Aunt Norma..I am glad her husband and family stood by her, and kept her safe and warm.
My sister languishes out in Truman Lakewood, where she is being tortured like a fly. I could never be a doctor..I just can’t stand witnessing such pain.
I was in the military.. in my younger days.. I fancied myself made out of steely stuff.. thank GOD.. thank God I never killed nobody. There is plenty of pain to go ’round. No need to inflict it. Nature can, and will, give you plenty of it. Poor Fred holy cow!
Update: Fred’s leg swoll up.. he was waiting on some antibiotics..they wouldn’t send him, so he took some veterinary antibiotics..doxycycline and it took it right away.. took the infection away. I told him to go to that doctor!