Oh, do your Friday nights not involve drunken men showing up your door with their head bleeding?
Stephen headed to the hospital with him on the back of our motorbike. There was a slight scare with new police in town; but he was quickly treated without too many questions. Stephen was sent to pay within an hour, and things were looking like a return home before 8pm. Perhaps we could recover a somewhat restful night.
And then Stephen walked back to the ER to find him gone. The doctors, nurses, or translator didn’t know where he had gone. He still needed an injection and presumably a ride home?!
The next hour was spent in confusion: talking to the neighbors; searching the hospital; driving along the roads home to try to find him; waiting home to see if he took a motorbike taxi himself.
And then he just showed up at his house. Completely unfazed that he had left the hospital without completing his treatment and without the person who drove him; still slightly fazed from the previously consumed alcohol and significant blood loss.
Stephen returned home and delivered the medicine; we shook our heads at each other and happily shut ourselves in for the evening.
Oh, my.