My husband disappeared for 48 hours and came home with a broken wrist. His explanation fell apart when the hospital mailed me the real discharge papers.
He said he'd slipped on wet stairs outside a gas station.
"It was embarrassing," he said. "I didn't want to worry you."
The emergency room had put his wrist in a cast, given him pain medication, and sent him home.
It sounded believable.
Until two weeks later: