He's Always Grumpy When He Wakes Up

Forgive my absence...playing nursemaid was a much more involved job than I realized!

Waiting is hard.

The last day of February was the big day. Surgery Day. SPINAL surgery day.

The Big B was nervous. I think that morning was the first time I've ever seen him get up the first time the alarm went off. Neither of us are morning people but when that alarm went off he was out of bed quicker than you can say "Skittles".

We are people that are habitually late--whether it's a family event, a party, appointment or something we just want to do. I can't remember the last time we made it to a movie early enough to catch the previews.

Not this day however. B's anxiety had him way too keyed up to allow for any lateness.

"I don't want to add being rushed and late to my anxiety today," he explains to me as I'm frantically readying myself in the morning. Perfectly understandable, but it was funny how at the same time he was ready to let little things delay us a bit before heading out. The catbox hadn't been done; he offered to do it right before we left but I told him it was fine that I do it when I got home. I think that although he didn't want to be late and rushing on this day of all days, he wasn't that unhappy at the prospect of having some more time before the surgery would lay him low.

Surprisingly, I felt pretty good about the surgery all day. We parked; we got his back brace fitting, we checked in at the surgery desk and waited. His parents arrived and joined us in the waiting room. They called him back to get ready for the surgery (I followed until a nurse chastened me and told me I could see him later on after they called me).

Waiting. Waiting for the surgeon and his team to be ready, waiting for B to be stripped, IV'd, and hospital-gowned.

Waiting for the surgery to be over; waiting for the surgeon to consult and tell us how it went, waiting to see Brandon after he leaves the recovery room.

Waiting to see whether the surgery fixed his leg pain, his back pain, and whether he'll get full mobility back.

Waiting to see if it worked. Waiting for him to wake up. Waiting for the nurse to come with more meds.
Waiting for the day he could go back home. Waiting for him to move himself in that slow and careful way people have when they are in great pain.

Now some of the waiting is over. The surgery went well, the leg pain at least is gone and the Big B is stylin' in his new back brace. He's goofy as hell from all the pain medication. I've gotten numerous impromptu serenades from him in the days since he returned home from the hospital.

We must endure more waiting, no matter how sick we may be of it. Waiting for the next time he can take his pain pills, waiting for the next exercise time, waiting for his post-op follow up appointment to find out when he can return to work (and whether we'll be eating Ramen for the next month or not), waiting for the full and complete recovery so he can go back to all the things he's been missing--like discgolf and Texas Hold 'Em poker, and things he hasn't been missing like mowing the lawn, doing the dishes and cleaning the catbox.

I'd be willing to wait a long time if it would mean he would be fully recovered with complete elimination of his back pain.

I'd even be willing to wait without a book.