After a while I realized I could still her him creaking around on the floorboards. I got up to have some water (as usual, I felt totally dried out), then noticed that he was dressed.
"You're up early," I said. "Restless?"
"Yeah," he said, "as I appear to have broken my toe, I'm heading back to the walk in clinic."
"Broken your toe?"
"Yeah, I was heading into the kitchen to feed the cat, and I appear to have had an ill-aligned encounter between the wall and my foot. My toe looks like this," he demonstrated, holding his pinkie out from his hand. I bent down to have a closer look (as I didn't have my glasses on). Yep, that was no direction for a pinkie toe to be pointing.
"A bit. I expect it will hurt more later."
"I'm surpised you didn't tell me."
"I really wanted you to get some sleep." We went around the house trying to find something he could wear on his foot in the cold and wet (solution: my last summer's pink flip flop, fortunately not the ones with the diamante straps, with a plastic bag wrapped around everything as he couldn't possibly get a sock over the toe - that not my idea), then he hobbled downstairs (actually he probably took the elevator) to catch the bus back to Charing Cross. I collapsed again and slept until 11, because I am still sick.
At any rate, I've heard from him, he's bored, he's been x-rayed twice, once before the "readjustment," once afterwards to see if they reset it right, and he should be back in a bit. wechsler is now playing nurse for both of us - he made me breakfast (I had to eat so the pills had something to sit on) and is now doing shopping for us, and will probably go get shadowdaddy's meds when he returns with his prescription.
Me, I'm on the couch and can tell that I need a shower, but I suspect that what's going to happen is that I'm going to fall over and go back to sleep again in just a bit.