I a sitting ina surgical waitingroom, and apologize for any typing errors. Blame the tiny netbook thing, bad eyesight, and truly, spectacularly bad (yet free) coffee.
Himself is havingsurgery on his left arm. It’s the 3rd one in 4 years, to correct an issue caused by improper healing. I’m not nervous. The surgeon is competent and when SITTING WITH HIMSELF dadgumit…caps lock and i refuse to edit. it justisn’t going to happen. Anywa,y, he(himself, not the surgeon) was under the nfluence of a couple of things including one that he said would probably solve the Middle East Peace issues if they dribbled it into the water supply. he kept giving me glassy eyed stares nd saying “I love you. really I do.” I guess he means it because that stuff kind of loosens inhibitions and such.
The waiting room isa nice place. Comfy chairs, and a couple of Korean War vets in the corner, discussing the societal ills caused by young people. A few minutes later a young man sat near them, and started asking them for help with his crossword puzzle. Based on body language, I don’t think they’re related.
Anyway, blessings. I count them when I ought to be worrying. It helps. Here’s a list:
Green trees outside the window, some draped with Spanish moss.
Free coffee, no matter how awful. It’s hot and since we were up at 4 am, it’s welcome.
Tiny portable computers
Friends. Oh my word. 4 years ago when Himself broke his arm the first time, there wasn’t anyone to call on, and I sat alone in the waiting room, feeling very sorry for myself. It was one of the primary reasons we had to join a church. Now, I am still sitting here by myself, but not alone this time. Friends have offered to sit with me. Friends are making sure #4 is taken care of. Friends are praying. I feel less alone than I ever have. Even though I am by myself, I am not alone.
Nurses with a sense of humor (Shall I give you some of this to take home? It would be a really good time to go shopping, because Himself won’t care.)
Kids who handle things. David managed getting Eli up and fed, took care of the dogs, and calls occasionally to check on Himself.
Did I mention friends? Knowing that Himself is covered in prayer by many people, that is a comfort you cannot imagine unless you’ve been there.
One of the garrulous Korean War vets is snoring softly. I don’t blame him, as the sun is coming through the window and on the back of his head.
Food. Don’t take food for granted. I am wanting a meal, as 4:30 was a LONG time ago, and the bag of Doritoes was unsatisfactory.
Crock pots. Who here thinks crock pots are a blessing? Can I get an AMEN? Last night I filled it with pinto beans and a bit of salt ham. This morning Himself turned it on, and when we get home there will be lovely lovely beans for supper. May God richly bless the inventor of the crock pot, to the third and fourth generations.
and there’s so many other ones, small ones like the time on the coffee pot that was set for 4am, so I had a fresh hot cup to wake up to, and big ones like (dare I say it) Facebook that allows me to keep friends and church posted on Himself’s progress.
I am grateful for competent medical staff, and a really good surgeon. I am thankful that, even though he was an hour late due to Savannah’s delightful traffic, he was not in an accident and unable to perform the surgery. I am thankful for good drugs that will keep Himself calm and his pain level at a minimum.
Hearing people talking and laughing in the waiting room is a comfort. How different it is from an ER waiting room, with worried relatives and people who don’t know what’s going on. This is an orthopedic outpatient place, people know what’s what, and there’s no air of fear. I am not fearful either. God’s providence is here, reminding me that what will be will be, That is a blessing of the first order.
I am very thankful for the person who told Himself what to expect, for she told him to let me know a sweater would be needed. It must be 60F in here. Hot coffee and sweaters. O yes.
Himself has another hour or so to go. It’s a long and (according to the surgeon) “complicated”. I am ok with that. He (the Dr.) is confident he can restore Himself’s arm to full functionality. Himself is dreaming of Harleys and golf and all the things he’s had to give up. This morning he sent me pictures of a beautiful pearl white UltraGlide. “christmas suggestions” he said. Well ok then. Just as soon as I find a spare $12K laying around, it will be the first thing.
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