Fuck the Hinge

See my earlier post, entitled, "Fuck the Napkin."

The D went on a rant about the "damn door."  The door between his bedroom and bathroom.  In his master suite.  The screws in the bottom hinge came out.  So the door wouldn't close.  I told him to just close the bedroom door since fixing stripped screws wasn't within my skill set.

Then a whole thing involving the sound on the ballgame on his big ass tv ensued.  I tried to fix it, to no avail. 

His urologist is working us in first thing tomorrow (so hopefully we won't have to wait), to figure out the blood in his urine.  His stupid nurse said he might have to lay off the blood thinner for a few days.  Talk about trade-offs.  If you had to choose, would you rather have bloody urine or a stroke?  Obviously, the former is less onerous than the latter, but after a month of peeing blood, with no improvement, something's gotta give.  He had bloodwork last week and his hematocrit is low, so it's not like we can just wait forever.

I'm exhausted.  Gonna head to bed.