Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Far From It

He's supposed to wean himself off of crutches, but limping around the apartment is different than the long strides of the Saturday-shopping-minded so when we split ways in the middle of Target you can bet I was a tad worried. He hobbles, this handsome husband of mine. I spied him limping out of the personal hygiene aisle- a bag of mixed citrus and a pair of toothbrushes in one hand, a crutch in the other. His eyes were a little tired and his mohawk is too fuzzy.

We're what The Cowboy would call "takin' 'er easy". Mr. E's on a strict regimen of icing, anti-clotting aspirin and a narcotic that alternates between making him high and making him emotional. So you could say that Valentine's weekend was pretty fun.
He rules from the chaise- as un-tyrannical as the sick can be, though perhaps that's more a testament to my expert "sick-station building" than it is to his demeanor. Ottomans have been converted to a bedside table to hold pills, liquids, electronics and snacks. Crutches are within reach, the ice machine is fed regularly and the Playstation controllers are in constant charging rotation. We've even extended the TV from the wall (thank god for Costco wall-mounts).

I think I was more worried about the surgery than he was but it was over faster than I thought, he has more range of motion than either of us expected and despite the nearby pharmacy's attempt to blackmail us with his meds we're taking fewer pills than expected and feeling only slight discomfort but no pain. Can you play Mama Bear for your husband? Because I did this week.

So when he finally begged to get out of the house we decided to skate through Target for essentials. We're on a "no-spend" month after fantastic success last month, so our normal "buy-the-store approach" is curbed both by financial and physical necessity.

There he was, at the opposite corner of the store, shuffling his way towards where he knew I'd be. There may have been a few old ladies gently nudged out of the way with my cart, but I'll tell you what: I passed up those discounted chocolate covered Peeps like I didn't even see them.

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Mrs. E