Not to worry loyal followers, I am fine, but I had to accompany my erstwhile husband to the hospital in order to have a lump removed from his arm. It was very traumatic - for me that is, because he had to be at the hospital for 6:00 AM. Yes, 6:00 AM, what idiot came up with that idea?. That meant I had to get up at 5:15 this morning. For crying out loud it was still dark out. I know, many of you regularly rise at that time, and good for you, but it is well documented that I do not function before 9:00 AM, so this business of being up at 5:15 did not go over well. To be fair, both my father-in-law and brother-in-law, knowing my undisguised disdain for early mornings, offered to take Rob in to the hospital in my stead. Believe me, I seriously contemplated taking them up on their offers, but in the end my sense of spousal obligation won out.
My first mistake this morning was actually opening my eyes, and secondly expecting my husband to make me a cup of coffee to go. Apparently he was just "too preoccupied"! Nothing was open upon reaching the hospital, what kind of establishment is this ? It was actually a good two hours before I was able to ditch Rob and race down to the cafe. My in-laws had joined us by this time, so I was at least able to elicit some sympathy for my predicament and they bought me breakfast!
I had been given a card with which I could track Rob's advancement through the surgical process, via a screen in the waiting room, kind of like the Arrivals/Departures board at the airport. My father-in-law is not one to sit still, and he was up and down every two minutes to check Rob's progress, positively gleeful when the indicator turned from red (operating room) to green (post op) and finally to blue (recovery) where we were able to join up again with the patient. After checking that their son had survived his ordeal under the knife, my in-laws had to leave for another appointment, and just when it was about to get interesting!
The nurse came by to check Rob out (and I don't mean that the way it sounds). She starts by putting his arm in a sling, until I suggested that it might be a good idea if she let him put his shirt on first! She leaves to give Rob a chance to get dressed and that was when the fun began. He had a nerve blocker in his shoulder so his arm was essentially paralyzed, and it flopped about like a dead fish. He didn't have a hope in hell of getting dressed by himself, but it sure was funny to watch him try. This is what happens when I have to get up at 5:15 AM. Payback. Finally I relented and helped him to dress. Thank goodness he had been allowed to keep his underwear on, just getting the rest of his clothes on was bad enough.
The nurse returns and tells me I have to go to the lobby and get a wheelchair. Seriously ? I looked at her incredulously. "You do realise he had surgery on his arm, not his leg ?" I queried. She was not impressed. Hospital policy states he has to be wheeled out. Whatever. Off I trot to get the wheelchair, and I tell you it was a lot easier pushing it without the deadweight of my husband. Dutifully I wheel him out of recovery, and sail right past the bank of elevators. "Do you know where you're going?" he asked nervously. (I am well known for my lousy sense of direction). "Yep" I reply "To the escalator" He's worried now, "You can't take me down the escalator in a wheelchair" he whined, and goddammit he's right, the escalator was too damned narrow. So elevator it was. Only one problem, I hadn't quite figured out how to stop the wheelchair, and when I removed my hand from the bar it came to a sudden, jarring halt as I rammed his feet into the wall. Oops. Actually that was kind of fun, so I did it again when we reached the lobby. Now he is whinging about whiplash. Payback's a bitch.
Later, when Rob was relaying the story of me helping him get dressed to the kids, Sid was mortified. "OMG Dad" she cried out "Please tell me you weren't naked in front of the doctor". She actually whispered the word naked, because it was apparently too awful to contemplate. Rob's arm has to be in a sling for a couple of days, so it's fun times ahead.
Just in case you think that Rob is not surrounded by a loving sympathetic family, you should know that upon first hearing of the date of his surgery, his mother's immediate concern was "Who is going to cook the Christmas dinner ?" To give her her due, She didn't even bother looking in my direction.
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