I'm o.k. Call me in the morning.
His definition of "okay" is debatable, but I did call in the morning to discover the master of understatement and his dad were out riding jet skis last weekend when one (or both) of them turned too sharply and collided into the other. Patrick flew into the air from the impact, landed on his tailbone and thought he was paralyzed before they were rescued and he was transported to the hospital.
By the time I talked to him, he was doped up on liquid Lortab, and wasn't feeling much pain from the fractured leg and coccyx, stitches, assorted lumps and bruises. His dad rented a U-Haul to transport Patrick's new (pimp) El Camino from Savannah back to Alabama, and I'm guessing this was the least desirable way he imagined spending Fall Break.
My Kathy-Bates-in-Misery style of nursing* involved picking up McDonald's every night on the way home from work, and forcing him to watch chick flicks with me all week. Never underestimate the quality time you can have with a teenage prisoner on pain medication.
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[Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews/Incubus]