Last Thursday, my sweet, sweet husby was taken away from me. They took him away from me for hours and when he was returned to me, he'd been shaved and couldn't walk. That's right. He had hernia repair surgery.
I was really nervous when he was gone, and I was very agitated because the waiting room they sent me to was chock full of people who were all very loud and fat and not good at sharing public spaces.
I didn't realize how much I take J for granted until he wasn't able to bring me a drink or tuck me in; I had to do those things for J--and a lot of other things, too! But I didn't mind. Here's some of the things I did especially for him when he had a hole in his abdomen:
- waited on him hand and foot
- made him homemade applesauce though I'd never made it before
- went out in the snows for ice cream because he wanted hot applesauce and ice cream
- shoveled snow
- choreographed a plan to get his car out of the shop
- helped him maneuver around the house and off the couch and into bed and so on
I love my husby so much; I may have fussed a little after his procedure because I'm stressed about school and a variety of other things, but the truth is that I didn't mind. I kind of liked taking care of him and trying to make him feel better.
p.s. Please feel bad for J when you see his hand bruised from the IV. Poor baby.
