Love, Surgery, and the Spazz

We all have preconceived notions about what love is.  Those ideas come from many places like movies and what was modeled to us as children.  Then as we get older we go out into the world and start looking for what we believe to be our ideal.  For most of us we go through much trial and error, meeting person after person, until we meet “the one” and settle down. 

Cohabitation is difficult on it’s own but once you bring your ideas of right and wrong into it then sometimes it becomes impossible.  Then we start to fuss and fight about things like toothpaste tubes, laundry on the floor, finances, and kids…round and round and day after day.  Life is stressful on its own but then we add another layer with our expectations.

Since I have been home sitting around like a potted plant I have watched about 3 seasons worth of The Amazing Race.  I think every couple should have to go through a series of mental, physical, and life challenges together before they get married.  It brings out your true character and feelings petty quickly.  Tell the contestants that they will only be given a marriage license if they are in the top 3.  Then test the heck out of them till the chicks cry and the dudes start to yell.

When we are forming our ideals as young people we don’t know to look for the most important traits in a person.  Instead we look at the superficial and how they make us “feel”.  We don’t know how important things like work ethic, communication, compassion, and loyalty truly are.  We probably don’t even realize what they truly are when we are young.

Being closer to 40 now I have seen what life can do to couples.  Being part of the military community I have seen what life plus military demands can do to couples.  Under stress and duress is where you see people in their purest form.

I guess this is on my mind right now because of the experiences I am having in my own life pre and post surgery.  These are the times when it is most obvious who Robert and I truly are.  Even though pain, surgery, tragedy, and stress are horrible…I think everyone should have the opportunity to see their partner in this light.  It is amazing.

Before surgery I was all jokes and bravado.  I talked about surgery like it was nothing and joked about my own death.  I planned and purchased, getting the house together for my family before the big day.  But mostly I talked, and talked, and talked about it to anyone who would listen.  I LOVE to tell a good story.  In talking about it I was able to tell a great story and then disassociate myself from all of it.  Pre-operation I did everything I could to keep myself from fully understanding that this was happening to ME.  The emotion, the pain, the recovery was all going to happen to the me in the story but not really to me ME. 

Rob on the other hand, did not talk about it at all.  Everyone was on a need to know basis and most people did not need to know.  He was very quiet.  He played a lot of video games.  He did not even sleep the night before surgery.  He just sat downstairs in his chair quietly.  Pre-operation he sat and thought about EVERYTHING.  He thought about the risks.  He googled the procedures.  He worried about me.  He internalized all the feelings and instead started to make plans.

The day of surgery he was calm and quiet and held my hand.  We went through each step at the hospital one by one and he got stronger as I got weaker.  I talked and smiled less and less.  When it got to the time I had to go change into my fancy hospital clothes and fabulous grippy socks I was terrified.  I was holding back sobs.  Tears would silently fall.  I tried to talk myself into a better place…convince myself that I was brave, but it did not work.   I started to tremble.  Rob sat and held my hand.

By the time we finally sat down with a nurse to go over last minute details and take my vitals I was hanging on by a VERY thin thread.  Then it happened.  She handed Rob a piece of paper that had visitor instructions on it and told him that visiting hours were from 10am-8pm.  WHAT!! I looked at her and asked again because I was positive I had heard wrong.  “Your husband cannot stay the night in the hospital with you”…and that is where I came completely undone.

I started to shake my head and cry.  No, I’m sorry that is for other people but my husband HAS to stay.  I cannot, I WILL NOT be alone in this hospital.  The nurse was so sweet and reassuring but I started to unravel in a spectacular fashion.  She quickly moved us to another room, so I would not freak out the other patients, and then went to find my doctor.  I began to sob, hyperventilate, and carry on like a crazy person.  Rob sat and held my hand.

I had not at all prepared myself for the reality of this situation.  I had not even considered that he would not be there with me in the hospital every second.  Getting through surgery and then being with Rob WAS my plan.  Without that, all my strength and big talk went right out the window and I truly freaked out.  I freaked out like my 6 year old freaks out when you tell him to eat vegetables.  I cried.  I talked back.  I carried on like a lunatic for a good 40 minutes.  At one point when the doctor said that we could reschedule I’m pretty sure I said, “No, no we will NOT reschedule because if I leave here I am NEVER coming back.   Don’t care about the bubble.  I can’t even feel it so it can stay in there until it explodes for all I care.  I DO NOT want to do this!”…or something equally charming.

It was a mortifying spectacle and I only wish I had it on video to share because I sure at this point it would be hilarious.  My plan changed, I had to face one of my biggest fears and I did it without grace.  Through all of it, Rob sat and held my hand.

After and hour of unsportsmanlike conduct in the punishment room, I was exhausted and agreed to continue as scheduled.

Once the IV was in it was smooth sailing because my chart probably said “Spazoid Proceed with Extreme Caution.”  The anesthesiologist gave me something immediately to calm my nerves and it was all-good after that.  Until the very last second before they wheeled me away…Rob sat and held my hand.

Surgery happened.  I lost the bubble, right ovary, and appendix.  I survived the night alone in the hospital by pressing the morphine drip button whenever it allowed me to self medicate…which was about every 17 minutes.  They took my vitals every 2 hours.  I did not sleep at all but I made it.  In a drug induced stupor I was brave enough to lay there alone in the dark all night while strangers talk to me about bodily function and heart rates.

At exactly 8am, Rob was there to hold my hand.

The day after surgery I was a model patient.  I drank a ton of water.  I sat up.  I walked.  I ate.  I gave up the morphine drip for some Percocet and was ready at 4pm when the doctors finally came to see me.  The minute they walked in I said, “Oh good it’s you guys.  I filled your pee bucket all the way to the top and I want to go home now.”  Since she was afraid to instigate another meltdown the doctor reluctantly agreed to release me under Rob’s supervision.

Since I have been home I have not been the ideal patient.  I’m finding sitting still and following directions difficult.  I have watched way too much TV.  And I realize now that this recovery IS going to be very long and painful.  I feel like I am sitting here withering away for a month.

But Rob, has come alive!  He has put together a nice little nest on the reclining loveseat for me.  He refills my cup of ice water at least 20 times a day.  He adjusts the thermostat on my whims.  He cooks amazing meals from scratch every night.  He washes the dishes.  He does the laundry.  He helps me stand up from the sofa whenever I need to get up, hugs me every time, and kisses my forehead.   He helps me shower as I complain.  He even takes care of the incision.  Everyday he checks it and meticulously cleans it with Q-tips so that I heal quickly.

Through everything the character of the man I married is evident.  He is my calm.  He is my protector.  He is my caretaker.  He is my partner without question, complaint, or comment no matter what.  I get to witness love in action every single day and it humbles me.

Each night he sleeps next to me sitting up on the loveseat.  He wakes up twice a night to give me medication. But mostly whenever he can, Rob sits and holds my hand.