TheBanyanTree: I Want to Hold Your Hand

[Margaret R. Kramer]

It’s bitterly cold outside.  Our thermometer reads –14.3.  The wind is still
howling.  One thing I notice about this new old house (built in 1947), is
that it does not rattle or creek when it’s windy.  I have to look outside
and see if the trees are bending over in order to know if it’s windy or not.
Our old, newer house (built in 1970) shook, rattled, and rolled whenever
there was a breeze.

We had about an inch of snow yesterday which played havoc with the roads.
It was quite pleasant in the morning.  The snow was falling in big pretty
flakes.  There was no wind.  And the temps were in the mid-20s.  Then the
front came through and all winter hell broke loose.  The temperature dropped
so quickly that the snow turned to ice.  When it gets cold enough, the ice
will bond to the pavement and become as slippery as an ice skating rink.
Chemicals have no effect on the ice when it’s below 10 degrees.

I noticed the ice on the ramps going out to the VA and it was very slippery
coming home.  It’s difficult to see the ice in the dark, so I was careful
and cautious driving.

Along with the wind, Ray’s temper is beyond belief.  He can be short with
people, but now it’s ridiculous.  He blows up about everything.  I know he’s
in a lot of pain, his abdominal cramping continues, but I wish he would give
the nurses a break.

His vitals are normal, except that he is still congested and gets winded
easily.  They removed his catheter.  He can get up and go to the bathroom
himself.  He’s still getting an IV, I think of nutrients and maybe some
morphine.  I told him that the nurses know he’s in pain, but don’t blame his
feeling bad on them.

He complains about the food, which he wouldn’t eat anyway, even if it was a
gourmet meal.  He has no appetite.  I brought him some bananas and he did
eat half a banana.  He had some milk and a cup of coffee.  Then he cramped
up and went to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, back in “normal” land, I did the vacuuming and the laundry.  I
shoveled the snow before it got really cold.  I loaded Turbo Tax on my
desktop, so I’m ready to rock and roll with the taxes when I get a chance.
I have all the paperwork I need to fill in the blanks.

I’ll continue to be “normal” for a little while today and hit the gym.
Whenever Ray is in the hospital, it usually takes me a few days to get my
head around it and while I’m wrapping my mind around the suddenly changed
schedule, my workouts suffer.  My brain needs to sleep and work through the
medical crisis before I can turn back to my body and get into regular
workouts again.  I haven’t worked out since Monday, so I’m looking forward
to putting myself on autopilot for an hour or so today.

Then it’s back to the zany world of the VA Medical Center – by the way, that
was another annoying thing yesterday.  There are three other guys in Ray’s
room, I think Vietnam vets, and so they’re a little older than I am.  They
talk and they talk and they talk.  They all hate Bush, but would fight in
Iraq if given a chance.  Does that make any sense?  But what I really hate,
and I think they forget that I’m there, is that they relive all their
drinking escapades and their sexual encounters with Vietnamese, Korean, or
Thai women.

I really don’t want to hear it.  I’ve become more of a prude about sex as I’
ve gotten older, so it embarrasses me to hear people talk about it so
graphically.  Then I look at these guys, they’re older and I suppose
regurgitating some of this stuff helps them hang onto their youth.  But it’s
icky to listen to and I wish they would go to the lounge and talk about it
there.

Gosh, after being at the VA Medical Center for few days, even my work
environment looks “normal.”  And I work with a whole slew of loony tunes!
Sometimes I think I’m the only “normal” person left and that’s not saying
much.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com

www.polarispublications.com

My heart to you is given:
Oh, do give yours to me;
We'll lock them up together,
And throw away the key..
~Frederick Saunders
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