Greg . . . sigh

Apparently while Greg was trying to make a repair of some sort at work yesterday, he bumped or shifted into a plastic pipe fitting which in turn cracked or opened and shot 230+ degree "concentrate" up his back and neck with some spilling over onto his chest. He called me from the local clinic to tell me he had been burned. Two things flew through my mind: First, Greg doesn't ever go to the clinic for himself, so the burns must be pretty bad; second, the tone of his voice told me that his usually very high pain threshold had been penetrated. Thank goodness for girlfriends who come at a moment's notice. I was on my way to the clinic within minutes.

By the time I arrived, Greg had already been pushed some morphine and was feeling a very slight drop in his pain. He was covered in cold towels, trying to bring down the skin temperature and give relief before more extensive examination. The diagnosis is 2nd-degree burns covering over 75% of his back, neck and a small area on his chest - about 12-15% of his body surface area. They dressed and wrapped his torso and sent him home with p.o. narcotics to try a night at home with instructions to call if it didn't go well.

We made it through the night. Greg's bandages shifted a couple of times, but overall it was an uneventful course. He's feeling woozy and nauseated, eating only a little and staying in bed with the kids locked out for fear of accidental contact with his burns. We'll go into the clinic daily for a few days for wound checks and dressing changes. There was some blistering, but overall, we're hopefully that he will have a quick recovery without any long term effects. Trying to work with the 3 littles and Greg in the other room has proved unfruitful, but I can't complain . . . because even when he's supposed to be needy and dependent, Greg doesn't ask for much.