The retired Indian doctors that Dani works for have generated many good discussions. I wish I could remember all of them.

Kris is pretty much bedridden and one of Dani’s tasks is to clean up after him. Often times when he is in pain, Dani will go in and put his oxygen back on him that he removes and forgets to put back. That is all he needs to fix his pain. Several times a day, he will have troubles with his bowels and Dani helps clean up and changes his sheets. The woman is an angel, as I know I could never do what she does, nor what my sisters did to take care of my mother in her later years.

The other day after a particular rough stretch of cleaning, Kris felt bad for Dani as he usually does, and said, “Dani, I am so sorry you have to do this. I have an appointment with a doctor in Houston to see what can be done.”

Dani firmly stated, “Kreees, I’m no doctor, buuuut . . . in my oh-pinion, you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your body needs oxygen to work co-hectly.”

After a pause, Kris said,”  . . . “Well . . . I AM a doctor . . . and I think you’re right! I don’t need another doctor when I have you.”

Then Dani casually added, “I am looking for another profession so I can buy my own car.”

All he heard was, ” . . . buy my own car.” to which he quickly asked, “Do you want me to buy you a car!?”

“No, Kreees. I don’t want my husband to buy one for me either. I want to buy my own. Buuuut . . . if you win the lottery, you can buy me one.”

Kris smiled and agreed.