Snip Snip Snip

Oh, the patient; or, as I began referring to him, the “impatient.” That is one of Carlos’ faults; he does not like to be kept waiting though he has no issue with anyone waiting for him.

We had the be at the hospital by ten and I suggested leaving home at 9:15 …

Why so early? I don’t  have to be there until ten.

I reminded him of paperwork and insurance and getting all of that done, so we got to the hospital at 9:30. Then … impatient.

He wasn’t called until 10:15 … Why are they fifteen minutes late …and were taken back to pre-op … Why are we waiting here? … where a nurse took vitals, hooked him to machines … Why is that one beating irregularly … and told him the anesthetist would be right in … where is he …

The anesthetist; kind of a hot bald daddy type but … a long grey wiry beard running halfway down his chest. I so wanted to shave that thing off or at least trim it before he started playing something from the Arcade Fire catalogue.

Back to the impatient; where’s the nurse … why can’t I wear my socks … what is that beeping … what time is it …my surgery was scheduled for ten …

No, you were set to be here at ten to sign in and do paperwork, honey.

But why is it taking so long?

One more word and I’ll find a pair of scissors and do the job myself.

Okay.

The nurse gave him an injection of something to relax him and help him with the anesthesia; she said he might doze off; I tipped her twenty dollars and started reading my Michelle Obama book. Then he woke up.

What time is it?

11:30.

Eleven-thirty? Howler monkey shriek. Why are they so late?

I signaled the nurse for a heavier does of the sedative … for me.

Around twelve-thirty he was wheeled away. My last words to him were, What’s the password to the bank account again? Actually; I kid. A surgical nurse came into take him and as she was ready to wheel him out, she said, Now’s the time for the kiss.

Nice; everyone, when finding out that he was mu husband, was no nice and friendly …How long have y’all been together … We’ll take good care of him … and even when I asked if I could get a younger model afterwards. The nurse reminded me that he’s a keeper.

And he is.

Surgery was quick; he was in recovery longer than surgery. Then it was home and phone calls to family to report the news that he was home and fine and, well, a little whiny. And acting like a superman. He was saying he was going to do this and that, and I told him to just take it easy and maybe rest a minute … he went into the guest room, closed the door to keep jumping cats out, and slept for about six hours.

It was heaven. Then he woke up.

I kid. Or do I?

Seriously, thanks for all your kind wishes and thoughts, and jokes. It helped with the impatient and me. He’s feeling a lot better this morning and we’ll see how he does the rest of the week.

Nurse Ratched has taken the full week off, so anything goes …