Bunker Punks Battle #1. If you could have the perfect day. No limits. Anything goes. What would your perfect day be like?
I sit at the kitchen table stuffing my mouth with about 3000 calories worth of snack cakes and coffee. I realized about a hour earlier that stress is going to really make my butt so much bigger. Hopefully not Kardashian bigger. One’s butt should stay in the same zip code as the rest of your body. Why am I sitting here going through every morsel of junk food? Because today. Today the hubs is taking a very dangerous and scary step. One we have talked about for years, researched like crazy and now his health has gotten to the point that it is this or nothing.
The alarm goes off in the bedroom, waking him from his slumber. I am surprised he has been able to close his eyes and rest. He is going to need that strength to reach his goals. It has been a very hard road that he has traveled to get to this day. He has always been my strength, now it is my turn to be here for him. The risk of what is about to happen is terrifying and sobering. But it has gotten to the point were quality of living has diminished so much it has left no choice really.
We got him signed in, paper work done, IV in place. He looks at me and tries so hard to appear unafraid. After all these years together he doesn’t ever have to act like he is fine. He acts like he is not scared shit less that when he wakes up afterward, he could very well be paralyzed for the rest of his life.
I reach out and I grab his hand and I smile a shaky smile. Trying to blink back the tears that well up in my eyes. I tell him to have faith and say a prayer with him. My arms wrapped so tightly around his shoulders. I bury my face into his neck and inhale his scent. I try to give him all the love, hope and encouragement I have in my heart and soul. The nurse comes to take him back to the OR and as he is getting ready to walk with her down the hall, he reaches for my hand and squeezed. I reach up and kiss him, telling him I love him and will be here when he is finished.
As he walks with the nurse, I hear him chuckle and see in my mind his smile. That smile is so infectious. His eyes light up and twinkle with mischief and love. He is my heart, my best friend, my cheerleader and greatest supporter. I am so scared for him. I stand there in the hallway and I pray “God I know I have fallen off the path. Grief and anger made nearly jump off the path in defiance. But I know that that man was made for me. He is a part of my very soul and I beg of you Father, PLEASE, PLEASE let this work. Lord you know the pain he is in all the time. And you know I have my own issues, but if it comes down that this doesn’t work, please just give me his pain. Every single bit of it. He, above anyone I have ever met; deserves to have a pain free and happy life. Please be with the doctors and guide their hands. Amen.”
I sit alone in the waiting room, watching every tick of the loud, annoying clock on the wall of the family waiting area. This waiting sucks butt. I cannot help but to think how he has had to be on this end of things waiting for me. To me this is the worst part. All the thoughts I have tried to keep at bay while trying to be strong for him take this time to flood my brain. All the “what ifs’ and “I hopes” run through and deep in my heart make me afraid to be too optimistic. I sit and I think of all the things he will be able to do again. Softball, basketball, get on roller coasters and spend all day in bed making up for lost time. And then the side of me I got from my mother rears it’s ugly head. I think about how much his life will change if it doesn’t work. Him in a wheelchair the rest of his life… and then this thought hits me… so fucking what if he is wheelchair dependent. So what if instead of playing basketball, he kicks ass in wheel chair racing. No matter what I will not allow him to devalue himself if he can no longer walk. He is the best, most kind and beautiful soul I have ever met and he is stuck with me through thick and thin. I love him. I love him in a way that he makes my heart swell with love and happiness and he is my true north.
Finally I see the surgeon walking toward me and I wait with baited breath. PLEASE GOD LET THIS BE GOOD NEWS! I walk his way in a hurry to find out how my husband is doing. The doctor lights up the room with a smile of joy and pride. He looks me in the eye and tells me EVERYTHING went perfectly and in the next few hours the love of my life should be able to walk without any assistance. I go into the recovery room a hour later and he is beaming. He actually feels his left leg again. The next morning I walk into his room and there he stands! His street clothes on and no cane or walker anywhere. He is pain free! And he is walking out of the hospital holding my hand and beaming with joy.
That would be my perfect day. My Rand healed and healthy and without pain.