This post is from 6/28/12, one day after my first surgery, which was a lumpectomy. I’ve had five additional surgeries since this time and John and I are still trying to work out the rhythm of the caretaker/patient dance. We are getting there and planning for my reconstructive surgery in March.
So, I am doing pretty well today, one day after surgery. My pain rating (on a scale of 0-10) is about about 1-2. John says he is running out of things to do around the house and noted that I don’t seem to need much besides a steady supply of decaf coffee. He asked my plans for the day. Plans? Sitting on my butt is my plan. Perhaps I confused him when I unloaded the dishwasher this morning with my left hand. (The surgery was on the right side.) Yes, I know you are all yelling at me in your heads as you read this. I am following the directions given to me by my nurse! I am taking it easy.
Anyway, John asked me “Do you want to go to a movie today. If not, I can go without you.”
“And leave me home alone?”
“Well, you haven’t really needed me much.”
“What if I get an infection? I’m not cool with you leaving today and I don’t want to go to a movie. I think it would be uncomfortable to sit in a theater.”
John did not need much convincing to stay home. I just think he needs to be needed. People just being around is a lot of help. A hard part of this process is that I don’t know how much help I will need and what kind I will need. I know that’s hard for John, too.
I promise to stay away from the dishwasher for the rest of the day.
Poor John, will he ever live this down? Why am I laughing? That’s a good question. Why do serious situations lead to laughter? I guess one emotion leads to another.