Start from the beginning
All this time I had been confident that I had not done irreparable damage to my fingers. If you can cut a finger off and reattach it, then the fact that mine were still attached was better. Right?
Dr Barry came in to clean me up, and then he brought a friend, and then talk began of cutting off my finger. One of them explained that there was nothing to keep, all the bone in the first knuckle of my index finger was gone, "See." Tim had to sit down at that point. For me it still didn't sink in. An hour ago I was fine, how could I possibly be cutting off fingers now? was my thought. Apparently they decided to get more help and Tim began trying to prepare me for what was coming, gently edging me to understand that they were going to come back and want to take them off, tonight. I was reluctant to believe him.
Soon enough, 5 doctors/residents plus or minus a nurse or two came in and did just that. My mind began to race:
How could they be saying this, I still have fingers I can see them. ... Emily you are being irrational I was saying to myself It will be so ugly I don't want ugly fingers! ... That is just vain, plenty of people live without fingers ... I am young, That is a 'rest-of-my-life' thing.
Dr. Weinfeld must have discerned this, "OK it isn't like you don't have options, It is your finger, We can try. There is a small possibility that it could heal without a bone, that would mean you would have a pretty useless floppy fingertip, We can always cut it off later."
useless is fine as long as it looks normal I thought. I knew I would wonder forever if it could have been saved if I didn't try to save it now.
"OK then,"Tomorrow report to admissions at 9:00" said Dr Weinfeld, as another Dr sewed my fingers together again and wrapped them for the night "Here are prescriptions for the night, Vicodin, for pain, and Antibiotic, make sure to keep your hand elevated"
More
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The ER
Start at the beginning
What is it that makes ER employees so seemingly irritated that you've come in, regardless of whether or not you have a legitimate problem?
I suppose there is a point at which one can become so desensitized that compassion flies out the window. I saw probably 10+ persons, told every one of them that I needed to make sure my husband was called, they all said they would take care of it, and none of them did.
In the mean time, people kept floating in and out and I kept repeating, name, birthday, health insurance...
"When was your last tetanus shot?" one of them asked.
"When I sewed through my finger with a sewing machine..." I replied, as I was met with a dropped jaw, "It wasn't too long ago, you should have it in your records,"
"You know," you could tell he was amused, (as I had intended), "I am all for women and power tools, but in your case..."
"Yea, I know"
Finally I came upon a male nurse who actually listened to what was concerning me. (My personal opinion, Men make the best nurses.) He dialed the phone for me, the one that was three feet away, just out of my sight line, that anyone could have directed me to (yes, I'm bitter). Tim said he had been home about 15 min. or so and knew something was wrong though he kept telling himself that I could have been absent minded enough to leave the garage open, and the radio on, and all the lights in the house on; when the phone rang, his heart sank.
When he arrived he did very good. He walked in to see me sitting, bleeding, with my mangled fingers in the air, his expression didn't change, and I turned into a puddle. with Tim there I didn't have to be a big girl anymore. Then came the Doctors.
More
What is it that makes ER employees so seemingly irritated that you've come in, regardless of whether or not you have a legitimate problem?
I suppose there is a point at which one can become so desensitized that compassion flies out the window. I saw probably 10+ persons, told every one of them that I needed to make sure my husband was called, they all said they would take care of it, and none of them did.
In the mean time, people kept floating in and out and I kept repeating, name, birthday, health insurance...
"When was your last tetanus shot?" one of them asked.
"When I sewed through my finger with a sewing machine..." I replied, as I was met with a dropped jaw, "It wasn't too long ago, you should have it in your records,"
"You know," you could tell he was amused, (as I had intended), "I am all for women and power tools, but in your case..."
"Yea, I know"
Finally I came upon a male nurse who actually listened to what was concerning me. (My personal opinion, Men make the best nurses.) He dialed the phone for me, the one that was three feet away, just out of my sight line, that anyone could have directed me to (yes, I'm bitter). Tim said he had been home about 15 min. or so and knew something was wrong though he kept telling himself that I could have been absent minded enough to leave the garage open, and the radio on, and all the lights in the house on; when the phone rang, his heart sank.
When he arrived he did very good. He walked in to see me sitting, bleeding, with my mangled fingers in the air, his expression didn't change, and I turned into a puddle. with Tim there I didn't have to be a big girl anymore. Then came the Doctors.
More
Monday, October 29, 2007
Table Saws will cut more than just wood
So this is the beginning:
Oct 1, I was doing such a great job repairing a very old 3 drawer chest for the bathroom. I had leveled it, given it new sides, repaired all the drawers and drawer bottoms, and all that is left are the drawer supports. (Yes, I did just change tenses in mid sentence.) I was making the 2 supports, that were not salvageable, using the table saw, to cut them to the proper thickness. What I did not do, was lower the blade on the saw. Training comes at a high price sometimes. FYI there is never any reason for the blade of a table saw to be higher than the wood you are cutting. Anyway, I was using a push block to make sure my hand was not to be hurt. I lifted the block and in milliseconds the blade ripped the block out of my hand and yanked my index and middle fingers into it.
Instinctively I grabbed my hand and thought "Dear God, what have I done, I was no where close, I Just Cut My Fingers, I JUST CUT MY FINGERS WITH A TABLE SAW!" I opened my hand and looked, the fingernail on my index finger was bending the wrong way. I began to yell, "Help me, help me,"
I went to my neighbors. Not Home. I looked around the neighborhood, no one was home.
Then it occurred to me: standing in my driveway yelling was not helping.
So I began exploring options, I could call someone and wait.
I did not want to wait, and how was I supposed to dial the phone?
Besides, I could be half way to the ER by the time anyone could get to me.
"So, What are you supposed to go when you cut off a finger?" I asked myself. Put it in ice, right?
I went into the kitchen pulled a small Ice chest off the top of the freezer, put in ice, then my hand, then ice. Grabbing my keys I ran to the car. I told myself I would have to calm down if I was going to drive and be rational What if I don't have all the pieces of my finger? I thought.
I went back into the garage looking for finger and was amazed, there wasn't but 2 drops of blood, literally. Crap, now I was going to have to look at my fingers, I Really didn't want to, but I had to make sure I still had them both.
Opening my hand I saw that my fingers were filleted. But, I saw two nails and two pads. This calmed me down, at least I hadn't cut them completely off. I got in my standard shift car and remembered I had no gas, NO GAS. So faith got me to the ER going 80 in 45 zones, passing someone in the turn lane, and no-one taking notice of my hazard lights.
I kept telling my self, It's all there, they just need to sew me back up. Right?. . .
More
Oct 1, I was doing such a great job repairing a very old 3 drawer chest for the bathroom. I had leveled it, given it new sides, repaired all the drawers and drawer bottoms, and all that is left are the drawer supports. (Yes, I did just change tenses in mid sentence.) I was making the 2 supports, that were not salvageable, using the table saw, to cut them to the proper thickness. What I did not do, was lower the blade on the saw. Training comes at a high price sometimes. FYI there is never any reason for the blade of a table saw to be higher than the wood you are cutting. Anyway, I was using a push block to make sure my hand was not to be hurt. I lifted the block and in milliseconds the blade ripped the block out of my hand and yanked my index and middle fingers into it.
Instinctively I grabbed my hand and thought "Dear God, what have I done, I was no where close, I Just Cut My Fingers, I JUST CUT MY FINGERS WITH A TABLE SAW!" I opened my hand and looked, the fingernail on my index finger was bending the wrong way. I began to yell, "Help me, help me,"
I went to my neighbors. Not Home. I looked around the neighborhood, no one was home.
Then it occurred to me: standing in my driveway yelling was not helping.
So I began exploring options, I could call someone and wait.
I did not want to wait, and how was I supposed to dial the phone?
Besides, I could be half way to the ER by the time anyone could get to me.
"So, What are you supposed to go when you cut off a finger?" I asked myself. Put it in ice, right?
I went into the kitchen pulled a small Ice chest off the top of the freezer, put in ice, then my hand, then ice. Grabbing my keys I ran to the car. I told myself I would have to calm down if I was going to drive and be rational What if I don't have all the pieces of my finger? I thought.
I went back into the garage looking for finger and was amazed, there wasn't but 2 drops of blood, literally. Crap, now I was going to have to look at my fingers, I Really didn't want to, but I had to make sure I still had them both.
Opening my hand I saw that my fingers were filleted. But, I saw two nails and two pads. This calmed me down, at least I hadn't cut them completely off. I got in my standard shift car and remembered I had no gas, NO GAS. So faith got me to the ER going 80 in 45 zones, passing someone in the turn lane, and no-one taking notice of my hazard lights.
I kept telling my self, It's all there, they just need to sew me back up. Right?. . .
More
Monday, October 15, 2007
Ode to a finger
O finger, O finger, how can it be
that connected together we'll no longer be?
But short, a stub will stand in your place
for table saws rarely offer much grace.
Many have fallen with the same end,
It offers no comfort when losing a friend.
For together we've always been from the start
and losing you now? Well, it just breaks my heart.
Tomorrow I'll wake, Tim will help me get dressed,
Then to surgery we'll go where you'll meet final rest.
Not easily forgotten all we did in our dance,
I'll have to relearn how to button my pants.
Fondly I'll remember all the things that we did
typing, tickling, nose picking as a kid.
Alas, Alack killed in your youth
Forgotten, disregarded, like a young child's tooth
I know I will have to move on without you
but I know in my heart you will think of me too
And one day again we will frolic and play
Where table saws no longer get in our way
Two days earlier
that connected together we'll no longer be?
But short, a stub will stand in your place
for table saws rarely offer much grace.
Many have fallen with the same end,
It offers no comfort when losing a friend.
For together we've always been from the start
and losing you now? Well, it just breaks my heart.
Tomorrow I'll wake, Tim will help me get dressed,
Then to surgery we'll go where you'll meet final rest.
Not easily forgotten all we did in our dance,
I'll have to relearn how to button my pants.
Fondly I'll remember all the things that we did
typing, tickling, nose picking as a kid.
Alas, Alack killed in your youth
Forgotten, disregarded, like a young child's tooth
I know I will have to move on without you
but I know in my heart you will think of me too
And one day again we will frolic and play
Where table saws no longer get in our way
Two days earlier
Saturday, September 29, 2007
My Acorn Family
When I was very young Mom and Dad owned a Bakery/Burger joint in Abilene called Virginia Lee's Pie Shop. We all just called it The Pie Shop. It is Full of Memories, not the least of which is my acorn family.
My sister Amy and I spent a lot of time at the Pie Shop because we could do odd jobs and when it got busy, could be left alone for the most part in the on site office. For a 4-6 year old kid the Lunch run could last an eternity.
Every day the bank deposit had to be made and the Bank was three doors down from the Pie Shop. Outside the bank there was an enormous Oak Tree. Every year, like every other oak tree, it would drop thousands of acorns to be seeded, gathered by squirrels, or trampled. So, On the way to make the bank deposit one day, holding my mothers hand, we began trampling. Watching, amazed at how many there were, I discovered how the acorns looked like little people pods, with little hats! Epiphany! Suddenly my acorn family evolved. I gathered up a Momma, and a Momma hat, a Daddy and a Daddy hat, and a Emily and a Emily hat. I took them all back to the office at the Pie Shop and played.
If they were going out they wore their hats. If they got somewhere they took their hats off. And they all had a nice comfortable napkin bed to sleep in. Who needs Barbie and her gi-normous mansion? I was perfectly content with my little acorn family. (I also think Amy was jealous because I had cool toys and she didn't)
So Why do I take the Time to blog about it? Well,Tim and I were taking a walk down the lovely river walk in Belton. We ran out of things to talk about apparently because I began to tell him reminiscent stories of the Pie Shop. A lovely acorn sparked my memory, and he said he would take my picture.
That's me, the short one in the middle. : )
My sister Amy and I spent a lot of time at the Pie Shop because we could do odd jobs and when it got busy, could be left alone for the most part in the on site office. For a 4-6 year old kid the Lunch run could last an eternity.
Every day the bank deposit had to be made and the Bank was three doors down from the Pie Shop. Outside the bank there was an enormous Oak Tree. Every year, like every other oak tree, it would drop thousands of acorns to be seeded, gathered by squirrels, or trampled. So, On the way to make the bank deposit one day, holding my mothers hand, we began trampling. Watching, amazed at how many there were, I discovered how the acorns looked like little people pods, with little hats! Epiphany! Suddenly my acorn family evolved. I gathered up a Momma, and a Momma hat, a Daddy and a Daddy hat, and a Emily and a Emily hat. I took them all back to the office at the Pie Shop and played.
If they were going out they wore their hats. If they got somewhere they took their hats off. And they all had a nice comfortable napkin bed to sleep in. Who needs Barbie and her gi-normous mansion? I was perfectly content with my little acorn family. (I also think Amy was jealous because I had cool toys and she didn't)
So Why do I take the Time to blog about it? Well,Tim and I were taking a walk down the lovely river walk in Belton. We ran out of things to talk about apparently because I began to tell him reminiscent stories of the Pie Shop. A lovely acorn sparked my memory, and he said he would take my picture.
That's me, the short one in the middle. : )
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
What to do With Myself
Last Thursday afternoon I was on my way to Taco Bell on 31st for a late lunch after work and before an eye doctor's appointment. I had about an hour and a half of time to kill, not really enough to get anything I needed to do done. I had asked myself so much what I wanted to do that I began singing "Just don't know what to do with myself, don't know just what to do with myself..."(the version in the karaoke scene of My Best Friend's Wedding). After I had gone over all the things I didn't want to do I was walking into the restaurant. I noticed a man with long gray hair, a goatee, (that needed cleaning up), and a few tattoos, leaning against a telephone pole (or the like) with a few bags of groceries at his feet. I began talking to myself,
"that's odd. He must be waiting on a ride"...
"It would have to be a friend, I don't see a bus stop, and he would be nearer the road if that were it"...
"I bet he is just fine." I ordered my food and sat down where I could watch him, just in case. He was obviously waiting on someone. He kept looking left, right, left, behind, then I noticed a brace on his knee. I kept talking to myself,
"I wonder what that is"...
"I wonder if he has been at Scott and White"... (the hospital a scant block away)
"maybe he walked over to get groceries before going home"...
"He certainly can't walk where ever it is he is going."
Uh Oh. there it was. Did you catch it? Now I had no choice, I was going to have to find out if this dude was OK. Then having a conversation - with myself,
"Crap. God? I don't want to ask this guy if he is OK. Besides, what can I do, I don't even have a cell phone. It's not like I can drive him home, He is a perfect stranger. "
"he probably wouldn't be any more interested in that than you would"
"But still, there is nothing I can do. Well, I do suppose I could track down a phone better than he could."
"What if something happened to his ride? What if he could call his ride? What if his ride is laying dead on the highway somewhere and he will be stranded for life because no one knows where he is and someone like you could alter his life forever if you would just go up and ask him if he is OK!!!!" (that last part was just for dramatic emphasis - mostly)
"OK God, Fine. But I am going to finish my Diet Coke first and give his friend a few minutes longer to show up."
"Fair enough." (yes, I said conversation with myself)
I decided to go out the far door which would put me closest to him as I walked to my car. I would casually look back ask "Hey, you OK?" he would answer "Yea, just waitin' on my ride" and all would be right with the world again.
After refilling my soda I walked out the far door and lo and behold he spoke to me first!
"Do you know what time it is" he called out
"I can find out" I said and walked back into the building chuckling to myself. when I came out again he was turned back into his concentrated left right searching. Instead of yelling I thought it nicer to go up to him.
"It's 1:45" I reported, "are you OK?"
"Yea, I'm just waiting on the bus it's an hour late"
"Wow, So you've been out here for an hour with your groceries waiting on the bus?" I clarified
He had a very friendly disposition to be in such circumstances
"Yea, Somethin' must have happened but they don't send anyone around to let you know or anything."
Knowing the only real thing I could do was take him home I asked, "Where 'bouts you headed"
"Oh I live downtown right behind the post office down there off Main"
As I thought to myself "that's a long way"I replied. "So you're just going home then?"
"Yea." he turned again to gaze along the road for the bus.
I pondered about the chances of someone on the prowl buying groceries, and a leg brace, and standing on the corner by what I could now see was a bus stop, looking for the off chance that someone besides the bus would come by to pick them up. Then I reminded myself that I didn't know what to do with myself for the hour and I was not in control of what happened to me anyway. So I offered "Well, I guess I could take you if you promise not to hurt me."
I could tell that 'hurt me' line took him aback.
"Well... OK"
followed by thanks to which I replied
"I think sometimes God puts us in places on purpose"
I cleaned out the front seat, introduced my self, and met Colby
"You know" he replied, "that is great. I think so too, there were a couple others that offered but they was real hesitant about it, not like you, like they didn't really want to, wasn't comfortable. But I didn't get that from you. God is just great"
He talked about how he had gotten spoiled by Austin's transit system, and that he used to street preach there and had a nice little park congregation, right around 6th street. WOW!!!! He asked me where I went to church so I told him hesitantly and got ready with my disclaimer. Sure enough he had been there and gotten 'some looks' showing up on his Harley, not dressed appropriately, with a buddy of his. Then he explained how he had found a nice church, small, close to home, that he was now enjoying.
"But this is what it's really about, this here!" excitedly he exclaimed as he literally bounced up and down in my front seat.
"I think it is fear that keeps us away from so much." I replied
We continued talking, I told him about how I had grown up on motorcycles and even had a picture of all three of my sisters and my dad on a bike at one time. He was quite intrigued at that one. I dropped him at his apartments and sadly that was it. As I drove away I thought, What a blessing.
It was one of those things God does for us that are just so incredible that you wouldn't believe it if you hadn't been there. I suppose God does know what to do with us even if we don't know what to do with ourselves.
"that's odd. He must be waiting on a ride"...
"It would have to be a friend, I don't see a bus stop, and he would be nearer the road if that were it"...
"I bet he is just fine." I ordered my food and sat down where I could watch him, just in case. He was obviously waiting on someone. He kept looking left, right, left, behind, then I noticed a brace on his knee. I kept talking to myself,
"I wonder what that is"...
"I wonder if he has been at Scott and White"... (the hospital a scant block away)
"maybe he walked over to get groceries before going home"...
"He certainly can't walk where ever it is he is going."
Uh Oh. there it was. Did you catch it? Now I had no choice, I was going to have to find out if this dude was OK. Then having a conversation - with myself,
"Crap. God? I don't want to ask this guy if he is OK. Besides, what can I do, I don't even have a cell phone. It's not like I can drive him home, He is a perfect stranger. "
"he probably wouldn't be any more interested in that than you would"
"But still, there is nothing I can do. Well, I do suppose I could track down a phone better than he could."
"What if something happened to his ride? What if he could call his ride? What if his ride is laying dead on the highway somewhere and he will be stranded for life because no one knows where he is and someone like you could alter his life forever if you would just go up and ask him if he is OK!!!!" (that last part was just for dramatic emphasis - mostly)
"OK God, Fine. But I am going to finish my Diet Coke first and give his friend a few minutes longer to show up."
"Fair enough." (yes, I said conversation with myself)
I decided to go out the far door which would put me closest to him as I walked to my car. I would casually look back ask "Hey, you OK?" he would answer "Yea, just waitin' on my ride" and all would be right with the world again.
After refilling my soda I walked out the far door and lo and behold he spoke to me first!
"Do you know what time it is" he called out
"I can find out" I said and walked back into the building chuckling to myself. when I came out again he was turned back into his concentrated left right searching. Instead of yelling I thought it nicer to go up to him.
"It's 1:45" I reported, "are you OK?"
"Yea, I'm just waiting on the bus it's an hour late"
"Wow, So you've been out here for an hour with your groceries waiting on the bus?" I clarified
He had a very friendly disposition to be in such circumstances
"Yea, Somethin' must have happened but they don't send anyone around to let you know or anything."
Knowing the only real thing I could do was take him home I asked, "Where 'bouts you headed"
"Oh I live downtown right behind the post office down there off Main"
As I thought to myself "that's a long way"I replied. "So you're just going home then?"
"Yea." he turned again to gaze along the road for the bus.
I pondered about the chances of someone on the prowl buying groceries, and a leg brace, and standing on the corner by what I could now see was a bus stop, looking for the off chance that someone besides the bus would come by to pick them up. Then I reminded myself that I didn't know what to do with myself for the hour and I was not in control of what happened to me anyway. So I offered "Well, I guess I could take you if you promise not to hurt me."
I could tell that 'hurt me' line took him aback.
"Well... OK"
followed by thanks to which I replied
"I think sometimes God puts us in places on purpose"
I cleaned out the front seat, introduced my self, and met Colby
"You know" he replied, "that is great. I think so too, there were a couple others that offered but they was real hesitant about it, not like you, like they didn't really want to, wasn't comfortable. But I didn't get that from you. God is just great"
He talked about how he had gotten spoiled by Austin's transit system, and that he used to street preach there and had a nice little park congregation, right around 6th street. WOW!!!! He asked me where I went to church so I told him hesitantly and got ready with my disclaimer. Sure enough he had been there and gotten 'some looks' showing up on his Harley, not dressed appropriately, with a buddy of his. Then he explained how he had found a nice church, small, close to home, that he was now enjoying.
"But this is what it's really about, this here!" excitedly he exclaimed as he literally bounced up and down in my front seat.
"I think it is fear that keeps us away from so much." I replied
We continued talking, I told him about how I had grown up on motorcycles and even had a picture of all three of my sisters and my dad on a bike at one time. He was quite intrigued at that one. I dropped him at his apartments and sadly that was it. As I drove away I thought, What a blessing.
It was one of those things God does for us that are just so incredible that you wouldn't believe it if you hadn't been there. I suppose God does know what to do with us even if we don't know what to do with ourselves.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
I finished the Dress!
I did it, I finished the dress. It is the same one I told you about in what was I thinking.. (you can click on that, I would recommend it, this is the 2nd part of that story) I really did amaze myself with this one. It seems that adding straps to a strapless dress is not all that easy, not to mention getting it to look normal when my upper torso is not. So how did I do it?
I started with 4 strips of boning on the front and sides to keep it from folding under problem areas after a few minutes of wear. Then I started in on how to hold "the girls" up. After building patterns of bras, prototypes, and the bras themselves, I found myself asking what was I thinking. (Obviously I did not finish it while Tim was out of state either.) I made a bra out of regular cotton, bedspread material, and headliner (the stuff that is glued to the inside roof of cars), to name a few. it seemed the headliner worked the best even though the lady at the store gave me an "are you crazy" stare as she questioningly repeated "You are going to make a bra out of headliner?" Well she asked what I was doing with it. But it seems that you cannot get under-wires in my size either without special ordering and still it seemed to befuddle me how to attach it to the dress so that all is packaged securely. So, back to the drawing board. I didn't think ordering under-wires, when there was no guaranty they would fit, would be a good route to go. So I went to Wal-Mart.
I figured I could buy a cheap bra that was too big around and harvest the wires or the cups altogether. I ended up with a bra that didn't come close to fitting, anywhere. However, the wires
were good and long and if I pulled the space from in between them it shoved them closer together and made a normal cut from a demi. After altering the bra in the middle, in the back, and cutting off the straps, I attached the ribbon to the bra instead of the dress (I had to get Tim's help.) Pulling and pinning what felt like 100 times, 'the girls' were done. I am very happy with the result, ok so I'm sucking in. It was all worth it.
I will get to wear it dancing Saturday night. I must say however, I am glad Tim hates to sit out dances because I may not be even if I want too.
I started with 4 strips of boning on the front and sides to keep it from folding under problem areas after a few minutes of wear. Then I started in on how to hold "the girls" up. After building patterns of bras, prototypes, and the bras themselves, I found myself asking what was I thinking. (Obviously I did not finish it while Tim was out of state either.) I made a bra out of regular cotton, bedspread material, and headliner (the stuff that is glued to the inside roof of cars), to name a few. it seemed the headliner worked the best even though the lady at the store gave me an "are you crazy" stare as she questioningly repeated "You are going to make a bra out of headliner?" Well she asked what I was doing with it. But it seems that you cannot get under-wires in my size either without special ordering and still it seemed to befuddle me how to attach it to the dress so that all is packaged securely. So, back to the drawing board. I didn't think ordering under-wires, when there was no guaranty they would fit, would be a good route to go. So I went to Wal-Mart.
I figured I could buy a cheap bra that was too big around and harvest the wires or the cups altogether. I ended up with a bra that didn't come close to fitting, anywhere. However, the wires
were good and long and if I pulled the space from in between them it shoved them closer together and made a normal cut from a demi. After altering the bra in the middle, in the back, and cutting off the straps, I attached the ribbon to the bra instead of the dress (I had to get Tim's help.) Pulling and pinning what felt like 100 times, 'the girls' were done. I am very happy with the result, ok so I'm sucking in. It was all worth it.I will get to wear it dancing Saturday night. I must say however, I am glad Tim hates to sit out dances because I may not be even if I want too.
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