A day or so after I wrote my last post, I happened to see my husband's upper right arm. That blasted patient DID bite him! I was just too sleepy to comprehend what my husband said when he got home from work that Monday morning. He worked for the next few nights and didn't mention it again until I saw his arm and shrieked. Praise the Lord (hallelujah, amen, etc.) she bit him through his shirt sleeve and didn't break the skin, or else I'd have to throttle her. I don't care if she's just a pathetic, 20-year old meth addict, don't you go biting my husband who's trying to help you, dang it! I was pretty upset for a time but I'm over it (mostly). I know God loves her and she needs help. I had been praying for her and probably will pray for her again, but not this week. It disturbs me that I might pass this person on the street or in a store, not knowing that she's the one who injured my husband. He can't tell me who it is, according to law. But she's out there. I need to let God handle this. I have to let it go.
On a happier note, I think I wrote on this blog awhile back that on our 20th wedding anniversary last August, we had the waitress take our photo at the restaurant we celebrated at and I proceeded to lose the film. After I found the roll, I had it developed; however, the photos were never returned to the store and I thought our special photo was lost. And then ...
Todd had four rolls of film developed last week (we don't move too fast to get our film developed so the rolls stack up). As we were looking through the pictures, to our great surprise, there was our anniversary photo! I started to cry (of course), I couldn't believe it. I had been praying that we would find that photo and God answered my prayer! Oh, happy day!
I am not going to torture myself in trying to figure out what was on the roll of film that was lost. It's just lost. Let it go.