Himself is recovering nicely from his surgery. After 3 days on strong narcotics, he’s off of them and taking nothing stronger than meloxicam. He slept very well last night And that means he feels great today. Too great. Great like “I want to (insert fixit project here)” and so I’m having to play the part of Nurse Ratchett and wave around rolls of duct tape and bottles of phenergan (for nausea, technically, but with a strikingly effective somnolent side effect).
He’s trying. Really really hard. There’s several days worth of James Bond movies to watch, but every now and then I see him start to twitch then a hawkish look comes into his eyes and he starts saying things like “I just want to look at (thing not working right)” or “I’m only going to check this (appliance making a funny noise)”. He can’t help it, and I’d rather have this than some whiny thing on the couch going on about how horrible he feels and all that.
He can do some work from home, thank you computers and internet type stuff. He is also able to help with some stuff like planning menus and…well, you know…things that don’t require more than one arm or any sort of exertion.
While I am sad he’s having to go through all this, I am immensely thankful he has his arm fixed. The surgeon is confident he’ll have nearly (if not totally) all of his function back in it. That translates to woodworking, golf, and possibilities of motorcycling. It also means NO MORE PAIN.
I simply don’t see him as inconvenient, or in the way, or any of that, because it is my PRIVILEGE is to take care of him right now.. He and I, we’re a team 2 halves of a whole. When one half is under the weather, the other half picks up the slack. He did it for me, and I’m doing it for him. That’s how it works around here.