The doctor was good. I’ll give him that. A bit too cheerful, considering it was going on four A.M. and I’d only gotten a couple of hours sleep, but good. He managed to get Coop awake long enough to check his vital signs and ask him a couple of questions about how he felt. After determining no damage had been done to Coop’s ribs, he shot him full of antibiotics and pain killers.
He handed me two bottles of pills, with instructions on how often Coop should take them, and told me how to clean the wound and what signs to look for that it wasn’t healing properly. Next, he checked my ankle.
“Not broken, from the feel of it. You might want to go to the ER to get a second opinion. You can tell them you fell off a ladder while changing a light bulb.”
“I’m good. I walked on it, and lugged him aro
