No Joke

Tomorrow marks a week since my husband went under arthroscope (this fancy medical stuff these days takes the punch out of my writing because I can’t say “the knife”) to have bone shaved away from his shoulder and repair his rotator cuff. Just a minor procedure really that only has him laid up for 12 weeks and in this contraption for six weeks!

Yes, this is the sling my husband must live in – day and night until March 25!

When he told me he would be in a sling I envisioned the soft, flimsy version most people are burdened with in the unfortunate event they twist, turn or pull their arm/shoulder the wrong way.

When I met him in post-op and saw his arm propped up to the height of his chin with the bulky sling on it, I thought, “Holy shit! That thing is no joke!”

He is doing well considering…

He went through 30 Vicodin in five days so yeah, I’d say his pain is manageable. He has two working feet and legs so I don’t let him get away with playing the handicap card much. His one good arm is still good for doing daily household chores like folding laundry, vacuuming, dusting and unloading the dishwasher. He can sleep (somewhat) so he has no excuse for a mid-day nap. He can very easily fit his average size body in our average size bath tub so there’s no need for me to help him twist, turn and squeeze into the 3’’ of water he can easily give himself a sponge bath with. Oh, and he can easily shovel snow so there was no need for me to shovel 2’’ of snow this morning at 6:30 before leaving for work.

All-in-all rotator cuff surgery is a walk in the park for both the patient and nurse! I’d recommend it to everyone!

If it isn’t blaringly apparent to you, I should note, I have a tendency to be sarcastic. Most often it’s my way of dealing with life!

No joke though, Tim is doing well and so am I. His prognosis is already looking good, not 12 weeks recovery to 8 weeks good, but we will take it over the alternative! He has been a super patient but I believe cabin fever is beginning to set in so I’m hoping he doesn’t turn all Jack Nicholas in the Shining on me!

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I’ve enjoyed (and that’s no joke) being able to help him. Luckily, I do not have one of those, “Ohhhhhhh-I- ammmmmm-soooooo-siiiiiiick” husbands who can’t blink his eyes on his own when he’s not feeling well. It’s hard for him to accept my help, especially if it is something he can really do for himself but I keep telling him, “Enjoy it!”

I’m sure in a few more days I will get fed up with filling his water cup, putting pillows under his arm, walking across the house to give him his phone or opening his pill bottles but for now I’ll play the good wife and take care of my husband-patient! There was a clause in the “in sickness and in health” part of our wedding vows declaring I was only obligated to be there for sickness for two weeks max. After that, I’m free to bail!

How I Know My Son Loves Me

It’s no secret that a parent’s love for their child is unlike any other love in the world. It’s hard to describe with words but rarely are the words needed because Love Does, right?

As a parent you just “do.” Some days you are too tired or too sick or too stressed, but regardless, once you have a child you are always “doing” for them in some capacity even if it feels half-ass once in a while.

Sometimes A lot of the time you don’t get anything obvious in return for “doing” but sometimes you do and it makes your entire day! And no matter where the return lands on the spectrum, it’s a gift.

My son “does” for me too and it’s his “doings” that are my rewards. He gives me stickers and offers me bites of his food without me even hinting that I want a bite! He gives me sloppy kisses and tight hugs with big “Aughhhhs!” He doesn’t bat an eye at the pimple on my chin and he tells me that I am the best mom in the “whooooooooooooooooooooooooooole wide world!” And while I’m aware that his “whooooooooooooooooooooooooooole wide world” is pretty small at this stage in his life, I will revel in his compliment!

Recently, my son rewarded me in two unique ways – the first made me smile at his subconscious sweetness and the other made me laugh at his raw honesty.

Practically every morning between 2 and 5 o’clock Jackson will wake-up and call my name. He doesn’t need anything in particular; nothing urgent, he simply wants my warm body in his bed.

For months upon months I have been dragging my half-asleep ass out of bed at his beckon call. As much as I hate the disruption, I love it, and the love is why I go because well…love does. I try to appreciate his need to cuddle with me because there will come a day when he won’t want me within three feet of him!

These nightly disruptions do take a toll on me though so I started bribing him to not interrupt me in the middle of the night! Yes, I’m one of those parents who bribes my child! I honestly don’t know how a parent gets through without bribing. I would venture to say it’s impossible!

Anyway…the bribe? A quarter for each night he doesn’t wake me up.

Jackson loves putting money in his piggy banks so I figured a quarter a night would be a cheap (for me) and entertaining (for him) way to get some uninterrupted sleep in our household.

WRONG!

In the last two weeks, Jackson has earned two quarters! Yep, that’s it! Fifty freakin’ cents!

I could be irritated that what I thought was “creative parenting” has not worked to curb our little issue, but instead I smile and think, “Aww, he is choosing mommy over money. He loves me more than he loves putting those coins in his piggy bank. Aww.”

Yeah, I think the lack of sleep is making me delusional too!

In addition to his middle of the night, unspoken reminders of how much he loves me, Jackson put his affection into words the other night in one of the purest possible ways. As I helped him wrap up his time on the porcelain thrown by well…wiping his butt, he looked at me and said, “Mommy, I’d wipe your butt.”

And right there folks is when you know you must be doing something right as a parent! Of course I laughed, thanked him for his thoughtfulness and frankly, well put offering then, asked him to remember it about 40 years from now.

In the meantime, with Daddy’s rotator cuff surgery scheduled for tomorrow, he might really be the one needing Jackson to express his love in such a way and actually act upon it now, not 40 years from now!

Is There A Nurse In This House?

I could be doing a handful of other things, and I should be doing a handful of other things like: sorting through this mess in a basket (this week’s mail),

working on the bookkeeping for Tim’s business, cleaning my car, running a few miles on the treadmill or putting my grocery list together. But since none of that sounds like “fun” right now, I’m going to do some writing!

In my defense, I did get my step-son to wrestling practice on time this morning, balanced our bank accounts, cleaned the fish bowl, returned and picked-out library books, washed and folded four loads of laundry and swapped the sheets on our beds. I think I earned some writing time!

I spent three days in Orlando, FL this week for my company’s national sales meeting. The trip sounds wonderful for someone like myself living in a cold climate but it was ALL business while I was in Florida. The only time I spent outside was getting on and off the airport shuttle. That is NO exaggeration. I knew that would be the case; it’s the M.O. for our company meetings. Our time is completely monopolized from 8am until at least 10pm. One night I returned to my hotel room at 11:50pm!

I left for Orlando at 5:30am on Tuesday and at 1am that morning Jackson woke me up with a dry, barking cough and what felt like a slight fever. I was up, off and on with him, until I had to get up for the day at 4:30am. When I left, he no longer felt like he had a fever. Tim took him to school that morning and by 10am he got a call that Jackson had a fever and needed to be picked up.

Jackson was sick and forbidden from school the exact three days I was gone. I knew he was in good hands so I didn’t feel like a terrible mother being out of town, but I did feel like a terrible wife making my husband rearrange his schedule for three days to take care of Jackson. Luckily, my dad and step-mom helped out a good bit but Tim still wasn’t able to work as much as he wanted to in his last full work week before surgery.

I got home at 9pm Thursday night. Tim took Jackson’s temperature and wouldn’t you know it…no fever! To me, it almost appeared he was never even sick! What was the big deal?

Just kidding! I’m very thankful to everyone who helped take care of Jackson while I couldn’t…even my husband. Although it is kind of his “job” as a father, I don’t take his sacrifice for granted. Really though, what else was he going to do? Children. Sticking parents between rocks and hard places ALL. THE. TIME!

When I dropped Jackson off at school on Friday morning the director quizzed me on his health. She asked if we had him tested for the flu because another kid in his class went home with the flu around the same time.

The flu?

I explained that he wasn’t barfing nor did he have diarrhea so he did not have the flu.

A cough and a fever is pretty typical for him. I’m always thankful his illnesses usually aren’t much more.

The director continued her flu conversation with my husband in the afternoon noting that the little boy who had the flu had the same symptoms that Jackson had.

So I guess I’ve been living under the rock and the flu isn’t necessarily a “I feel like I’m going to die as toxins are exiting two orifices of my body at the exact same time” type of illness anymore.

I had a moment of feeling like an inadequate mother for not even knowing enough to have the thought of Jackson being sick with the flu enter my mind and/or suggesting my husband take him to the doctor. I’m not one to get too up in arms about illness. I’m not big on medication, and almost everything I’ve ever had to deal with personally, and with my son, I’ve always felt will pretty much run its course. Maybe I should get a little more concerned once in a while.

But then I thought, what the hell would the doctor have done? He would’ve confirmed if Jackson did or didn’t have the flu then tell my husband to give him plenty of fluids and make sure he gets plenty of rest. We would’ve paid at least $25 for this doctoral wisdom then, to top it off, my son would’ve ended up with some other illness he picked up while at the doctor’s office. NO THANKS!

So Jackson’s week of in-home care from Nurses Daddy, Pappy and GiGi was this past week. Tim will get his turn with Nurse Lindsay this week when he gets rotator cuff surgery on Wednesday. Of course I’ve take the day off work to be by my patient’s side and drive his handicapped and loopy ass home from the hospital.

The surgery is outpatient, arthroscopic and is supposed to only take an hour and a half but I have a feeling the doctor is going to need more time than that to repair the years of abuse my husband has endured on his shoulder.

After all this, I look forward to the bit of entertainment I’m sure Tim will provide as he comes out of anesthesia. The last time he was under anesthesia was when he had his wisdom teeth removed a few years ago. I was there with him in the recovery room and couldn’t help but laugh as he rambled on and on about nonsense.

To top it off, there were cotton rolls stuffed in his mouth with strings attached to them which draped over his bottom lip. Imagine my surprise, laughter and bit of “eww” as I walked into the recovery room to see my husband looking like a drunken fool with tampons stuffed in his mouth! Oh how I so wanted to take a picture but refrained for it felt like such a violation of him in his vulnerable state. Now, I feel like I should’ve just taken the damn picture!

The Tampon. A Multi-Use Tool.