I could see the dark rain clouds building in the evening sky when Hans was driving me to Steve and Paola’s house, and I knew it was going to rain. Hard.
But I had already forgotten how quickly the streets would flood after a big rain in South Florida. I had no sooner taken my bags into the house, and collected the keys to the cherry red convertible that Steve was loaning me, when the sky split open and sent down curtains of rain. In a matter of 10 minutes, entire sections of the streets were covered in water, making a paddle boat a better form of transportation than a low-slug $40,000 Mercedes Benz sports car.
But I couldn’t wait for the water to drain. I had to get back to Lou. I remember feelings so worried about how long it was taking me to get back to the hospital, but driving in six inches of standing water in a fancy sports car that doesn’t belong to me was incredibly stressful. On top of that, I barely knew where I was going. I tried to pay attention to how Hans navigated Steve’s fancy neighborhood, but my mind was literally mush.
But somehow, I managed to find my way back to Federal Highway, and, I had a vague idea of where the hospital was located from there. But everything was so wet and steamy, so I felt like I was driving with a partial blindfold over my eyes.
By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was so wobbly and spent. I have a strong memory of struggling to control how shaky my hands were. Signing my name on the nurse’s clipboard was as difficult for me as solving an algebraic equation.
Speaking of algebra, here’s a good equation:
If we survive x, then y = ?
Ugh. X was still unknown, so how in the heck could I ever solve for y? (That’s for a much later chapter I suppose…)
But once I successfully signed in, I was told that I couldn’t see Lou right away. He was out of surgery, but he was still in recovery. There were no doctors available to come out and update me, so I just needed to “take a seat and wait.” So all the rushing I did ended up being pointless (again).
But at least I was at the hospital. Just being there was helpful. And, it also helped to check in with Dona, and of course, I called my sister, too. I needed to hear their voices to remind me that I wasn’t in this alone. I knew if I needed anything, they would both move mountains to help me — and that always gave me courage.
But the time I spent waiting for Lou to come out of recovery was memorably dark for me. Everything that had happened so far that day was pretty terrifying, and I still hadn’t gotten very many useful updates or answers. No one could tell me anything at that time, and so it was up to me to keep my mind from spinning out on too many thoughts or ideas about what was next for Lou. I knew in my heart that Lou was going to come out of recovery OK; but, I was losing all of my faith in the idea that Lou was ever going to be well again.
No one seemed to know how to fix this bleeding situation.
I did confess to my sister that I was blaming myself for not insisting that Lou listen to the Minnesota doctor’s concerns, and go with the prostate surgery that was originally scheduled. I remember the doctor saying that he understood Lou’s position, but he told me on the phone the night after Lou’s first surgery that removing a percentage of Lou’s prostate was his “very strong” recommendation.
But Lou didn’t listen. Lou was all on his own when he was going over the first surgery details, so maybe if I’d been there, I could’ve talked him into listening to the doctor. Maybe then Lou would finally be healthy, and well on the road to recovery; and, maybe then all of this bleeding would be behind us…
But as is very often the case, my sister said something profound to me about my confession.
She said, “Sonja, if you had talked Lou into doing something he’d later regret, he might blame you for the rest of his life. So in a way, you did the right thing for yourself by allowing Lou to do the right thing for Lou. It’s just a thought…”
She was right. No doubt about it. Just because Lou is my husband doesn’t mean that I get to make all of his decisions for him — even when they impact me, too. If I was the one who was really ill, and I had no peace about something a doctor felt I should do, I’d certainly hate it if Lou was imposing his will on me, or guilting me into doing something I felt certain was a bad idea.
What Lou needed me to be was a sounding board — not a wife with ultimatums. And even though everything that happens to Lou ultimately happens to me, I could never live with the thought that I made Lou do something against his better judgment.
[Side note: Marriage is tricky, and I wish I were better at it. As I post entries on this blog, I’m constantly struck by how confusing it was (and is) for me to understand how to be “one” with Lou, while still being my own person. I feel like mastering the art of being married requires the ability to be wholly me, while being wholly Lou’s. Marriage is more than just a three-legged race — where Lou and I are tied together with the strongest possible bond, so we can strive toward a common goal in synchronized unity. It has to be! But I think at this point in my life, and in my marriage, I still misunderstood so much about myself; and, I think I honestly believed it was necessary for me to lose bits of myself so I could keep every part of Lou as close to me as possible. ]
Eventually, I was taken back to this recovery area. Lou was awake and talking, and he was asking for me. When I got my first look at Lou, I felt my heart leap with relief. He was awake, and he was calm. His face was pale, but warmly familiar. A nurse was hooking up some kind of bag to the side of his bed, and another nurse was adding a blanket to the foot of Lou’s bed. Lou looked up at me when I got closer to the bed. He smiled, and then closed his eyes. He held out his hand, and I took it. When Lou’s fingers wrapped around my hand, they were so cold — but his grip was strong. I felt myself give in to my relief.
“How are you?”I whispered.
“I’ve been better,” he said as his eyes found mine. “But you should’ve seen me in my interview — I think I made a really memorable impression.”
We both smiled ironically. Then, I leaned over the side of the bed and kissed my husband on his forehead.
