POV: Sitting in the hospital waiting room while your partner gets a new part.
I think it goes without saying that when you care about someone you want what’s best for them. And I think in general that wanting the best for others is a pretty healthy way to go through life.
That all takes a bit of a different spin when you layer on an acute awareness of the lack of control you have over your ability to influence (let alone guarantee!) the best for others, highlighting the extent to which we can control ourselves and nothing more. It highlights the blind faith we sometimes put in others because we have to, like I’ve placed in this surgeon and this medical team, the people who I am trusting are going to provide the best care and deliver the best outcome possible—an effective surgery, a new hip, a smooth recovery, and a substantially updated quality of life for someone I happen to care about.
We got here without issue (upside to the early assignment, no traffic; downside, no sleep). We no sooner got checked in than they whisked her away…no company in the holding pen. So now I wait, anxiously…I’ll watch the monitor for updates and then wait for someone to come out or call with an update and tell me everything is ok. I suspect I’ll tear up, I’ll offer up a “thanks” to The Universe, I’ll whisper “hip, hip—hooray,” and until then, I’ll wait, which we know from the late great Tom Petty is the hardest part…and I’ll worry. Because I care. And because…I’m me. 😜
For now, I’ll write…a) because I “have” to, b) since it wouldn’t be “Transformation Tuesday” if I didn’t talk about the passage of time, and c) because the brekkie place I scoped out doesn’t open until 8. Plus I’m gonna be here until who knows when so why rush from one activity (this) to the next (breakfast) (and coffee!!!)?‘
Moving right along…I’ve consciously experienced the passage of time in two ways lately:
The transition from Summer to Fall. On Friday afternoon I took a late lunch and a long walk through the Esker, my fave place…I needed time and space to think, to walk away from the work week and toward the weekend…the air is different, there’s always a hint of the ocean in it…but my pace slowed when I rounded that first corner and I saw it…the greens giving way to gold. Wasn’t I *just* doing my happy dance about the golds giving way to green? New seasons mark fresh starts and also serve as a reminders of the importance of cycles and shedding and rebirth and growth, and so I take the golding of the green as a sign of hope and possibility and opportunity. If I thought of it any other way I’d be feeling blue, all the time. And no matter the color of the sky or the water or the marsh grass or the trees, it’s always the perfect season for my soul when I go walking through there.
The whole general passage of time/aging thing, which fortunately sometimes is (accompanied by the reminder of the very important fact that where we’ve been can be so tightly woven into where we are—there’s a strength and security and impartial completeness to that. I felt this past-present connection a few times over the weekend. First when I drove my 22-year-old niece to take the bus to the airport to catch a flight to spend a weekend with her college peeps, something she was most excited about. I wished her a safe journey and shared my memories of when I was her age, and how much fun it was for me to see my college peeps. (But that’s a whole other story.) The more things change, the more they change…and stay the same. Then on Sunday we had dinner at my sister’s house because my nephew was home for the weekend. But as I just told you my niece (his sister) was away, so we didn’t have the whole band back together. Even still, we had a great group, and the heart once again proved to be a remarkable and unique organ, bending and stretching and finding a way to feel full even when it is missing pieces.
So as I sit here typing, I just caught an unexpected glimpse of the patient on the gurney, as they rolled her by the window on her way to the OR. That eye contact and smile made my heart so happy, my eyes are leaking, and it’s just what I (we?) needed. Sigh. She’s on her way.
Now I really wait. But it’s 8 so I can go grab some breakfast and coffee…
…and I’m here at Dash Cafe…waiting…on my coffee…on my breakfast torta…and on the new hip…yet all the while knowing that new strong things are being woven together while I do.
Anyhow, if you’re so inclined, send good thoughts into the Universe for my soon-to-be bionic woman; if you choose to send them, thanks. And, regardless and as always, thanks for being here.
Have a great week.
Love you too.
UPDATE #1: I *just* got word that she’s out, did great, will start PT as soon as the spinal wears off, and likely will be riding shotgun home with me tonight! 💓
UPDATE #2: 12 hours after we left the house we’re home with a new hip, a walker, and 5 of 7 prescriptions. We’re on it!
Smooth and speedy recovery to Kerri! Xo
Sending you guys good vibes. Xoxox