Jerry's therapy

The caregiver has a harder job than the givee's. When I think of everything that Jerry puts up with and does, I feel sorry for all of you who didn't have the luck to marry the most wonderful man in the world -- hey, guys, I got him, too bad for you.
And I know he didn't expect "caregiver" to be in the job description when he signed up.
This is a man who is phobic about doctors, can't stand hospitals, and who almost literally faints at the sight of blood. This is a man who hates to lose control. And this is the man who takes me to the ER at 3:00 am, who managed to live with my nausea and vomiting, who is prepared to deal with my weakness, wounds, and drains -- and all of this without falling apart.
He'd tell you the solution is single-malt scotch. However, his solutions are basically much more creative than that. One of his latest ways of dealing with stress is to smash big pieces of glass into little ones and stick them back together. Like this.

He just finished it yesterday and hung it in the window over our front door. That required schlepping it single-handedly up a ladder to the second floor and managing to hang it from two hooks.
Next? Either a reproduction of the Rose Window from Notre Dame or maybe an Elvis with black background....