Well, the surgeon said that Harriet could get by with just a shot of steroids around that thing in her hand. So he loaded a hypodermic needle with about a coke bottle full of something and a needle near the size of a ball point pen and stabbed my sweetheart right in the palm! He was honest enough to warn us “This is going to hurt!” Harriet grabbed my hand and nearly crushed it with her good hand. She looked up at me and thru clenched teeth she groaned “He’s right, Dun!”
But she cowboyed up and stood it better than this man would have. I am not too proud to admit that I’m just not man enough to endure the pain my sweet wife lives with – much less the times like this when she suffers above and beyond her own limit!
But now her trigger finger is on the mend and we are looking for some deer with suicidal tendencies! And if you don’t think Harriet will do her best to kill another one, just invite her to your deer stand and watch her!