5. Waiting to poop... not me, her.

5. Waiting to poop... not me, her.

They say there is no dignity in hospitals... or maybe I just coined that term. But it is as true as the sun rising in the East or a nurse entering the recovery room to take the patient's temperature just as you've nodded off in the "recliner" that was designed for a man half your size and a quarter your width.  

Look, watching a Doctor feel up your wife's chest pre-surgery is something that takes a little getting used to. Watching her hospital-gown-exposed-ass trot off to the bathroom as a nurse trails behind her soon becomes just another day at the office. And getting a glimpse of the post surgery carnage is just a thing you talk about with the other "vets" on those nights in the bar where all truths are laid bare on the table. 

Because I have seen this women poked, prodded, stuck and written on by the medical team that is trying to save her life.  And I am grateful. 

But dear God I wish she could shit.

Pardon my French, but the effects of Oxy and any other narcotics have build up a levy in my gorgeous lady wife, and I just pray she will be in a finer mood once the dam breaks and life returns to normal. And by that  I mean a " post surgery, pre-reconstruction, wife bleeding through tubes into tiny reservoirs" kind of normal. Not sure "normal normal" is on the table, but it is a journey. 

We have tried the meds, prune juice, apple juice, and so far, not a ton of luck. There is talk of enemas. I love this woman, and will do what is required, but in the interest of having sex ever again, please, let this never come to pass.   

 

6. No, I'm actually okay...REALLY

6. No, I'm actually okay...REALLY

4. Caring for difficult women...

4. Caring for difficult women...