I split my pants this morning when I squatted onto the floor to put my socks on. The thin fabric just couldn’t stretch over my long johns and my massive legs. Plus there were already two holes there, presumably from cycling to work all summer. I put my shoes on anyway. It wasn’t like anybody would see the gaping hole, flapping about; outside I’d have my down jacket on. Inside I’d be sitting on a chair. I made the mistake of showing Dan. He made me change my pants, but helped me change. Getting dressed in winter in Toronto is nothing like getting dressed in Australia. Multiple layers are involved. Skin has to be covered. It’s easier with assistance. Dan questioned why I needed to bother with long johns. I’m glad I did. I spent 15 minutes at Bathurst subway in the middle of two very long queues for a streetcar to Toronto Western Hospital. Hard chunks of salt crunched under my very thin leather work shoes. Tiny snowflakes floated about between shivering commuters. My toes were numb 5 minutes in. I hobbled into work.
Work was busy but thankfully there was a free lunch so I didn’t have to eat my half defrosted half frozen leftover soup (I have no idea where a microwave might be in the department). I had taken in the chocolate fudge I made yesterday morning, as a gesture of goodwill for the sonographers but mostly to prevent Daniel from eating them. I found the recipe on Facebook: 3 cups of choc chips, 3 tablespoons of butter, a tin of condensed milk, melted in the microwave for 60 seconds, stirred with a tablespoon of vanilla extract and a bit of salt. Decadent. I had three pieces.
We had a rush of ED scans just before five, so I was late leaving to get the shuttle to TGH for rounds. I made it though. I got home just before 7, and was happy to see Dan had cooked cauliflower cheese and crumbed chicken for dinner, even if the crumbs were some weird dry polenta concoction.