The things we do for love

This may be too much information for some people, but I am proud to say that Bill and I have a happy and healthy sex life. Or at least it was healthy. Until last weekend. We had just gone out to buy new golf clubs for Bill and golf outfits for me in preparation for learning how to golf. I mean a girl has to look good on the golf course. I guess all of the golf talk got us a little randy. We gave Gracie a chew toy to keep her busy (we are responsible parents after all) and headed upstairs.

Now I have not read Fifty Shades of Grey or any of that stuff, but I’m pretty sure we aren’t in that category of couple. So it’s not like we were doing anything totally kinky, but after getting into various levels of undress, we realized we needed something from downstairs. And no I’m not telling you what. Bill ran downstairs as fast as he possibly good as to not interrupt the moment (Sabrina says he is the hero of women everywhere). And that’s when it happened. Bill got about 5 steps from the bottom and his heel slipped off of the step. He went flying through the air and landed squarely on his elbow at the bottom of the stairs. Ouch. I heard a thump, thump, thump, thump and then Bill just barely whispered my name.

I flew down the stairs (what can I say, I am not as clumsy as my husband; I blame the fact that he is very tall and has giant feet). Bill was clutching his elbow and blood seemed to be spurting out from his upper arm. I ran upstairs to get a towel. For about three seconds, I considered which towel would be best. I mean we have these old white ones that we could just throw away or we have better white ones and we could just bleach the blood out. The colorful ones were all in the wash. Then I just grabbed the one on top of the stack. I ran back downstairs and tried to wrap it around his arm. I noticed what I thought was a piece of bone sticking out. Now I have vasovagal syncope and faint at the sight of blood and I have no reason why, but I was in some sort of superwoman mode and all I could think about was getting Bill to the hospital. I didn’t think to call 911. I told him it was because I didn’t want to pay the $1300, but I really just didn’t think of it. I ran upstairs and got dressed, got Bill some pants, dressed him, got him up off the floor, grabbed his wallet and my purse and we got in the car and drove to the emergency room. Bill was really a trooper. He was a little sweaty, but very lucid and calm.

I parked in the “do not park here” circle at the ER and Bill got out and started walking in. They ushered him right back. I guess walking into the ER with a bloody towel constitutes immediate service. Plus, it wasn’t very busy. They stopped me at the front desk to get our information. I asked if I needed to move our car and like four of them said “yes” in unison. I ran back to the car and parked it in the garage. I wondered why all of the spaces for people in the emergency room were full when there was hardly anyone in the emergency room. Lying bastards. I ran back to the ER and they had wrapped up his arm in gauze. There was blood on the floor and a woman asked me if I wanted the towel back. I told her no. “Are you sure,” she asked. “It’s a really nice towel. A little peroxide and it’ll be like new.” I assured her I didn’t want it back.

They put Bill in a little room and I was really amazed at how quickly they got things done. They did a CT scan on his head (just in case he had hit his head) and an x-ray on his arm. The ER doctor was just adorable and very young. I had texted my family and a few friends and in no time, my Mom, Dad, and brother had arrived. Bill was in pretty good spirits and was hopeful it was just dislocated and they could just pop it back into place. When the x-ray came back, it was definitely not just dislocated. He had broken the ulna, humerus and radius. I heard “compound fracture” and something or other was broken in two. They called the on-call orthopedic surgeon and said they would be doing surgery that night. As I am sure is the norm in ERs, people are all coming and going and everyone is saying something different and you have no idea what is going on. A guy showed up to “irrigate the wound” and that I could not watch. Bill had declined pain meds up to this point, but I insisted that they start him on some once I saw the wincing on his face. Our friend and savior Sabrina showed up with supplies on hand (fruit, protein bars and Oprah magazine). With all of the confusion about what they were going to do for Bill, she urged me to call our friend Larry. He was great and called the orthopedic surgeon and then called me back to explain what they would be doing. The surgeon was on his way to the hospital and he would perform surgery that night. He would not be able to fix the problem that night, but he would clean it up and stabilize it. He worked with a trauma surgeon that would be able to fix the elbow, but we would have to wait for the swelling to go down and that could take a few days.

We met the on-call orthopedic surgeon about 10:00 pm and he explained that the break was very severe and Bill might require an elbow replacement, but they would know more when they went in to clean it up. They took Bill back to surgery and then Sabrina and my Mom went home (my Dad and brother had left earlier). They showed me to the surgery waiting room and it was completely empty. I wandered the hospital to find a Diet Coke (and thank goodness for Sabrina’s protein bars! I was so hungry) and then came back to find that Saturday Night Live was on. They called me about 10:45 to say the surgery had started and then I fell asleep. The surgeon woke me up around midnight and said everything went well and he thought Bill might be able to go home on Sunday. He thought the elbow could be saved without a replacement so it all seemed like good news. I got to go back to the recovery room about 12:30 and Bill was feeling no pain. He was trying to tell jokes to the nurse. I had to stop him from telling the really dirty one that ends “a good goat will do that.” He insisted that I go home and get some sleep and the nurse assured me they would take care of him.

I got up early Sunday to wash some of Bill’s shorts to take to the hospital. For some reason, all of his clean ones were in various pastel colors and one just can’t leave the hospital looking like Boca Raton. Everyone knows serious injuries require khakis.

I packed up everything I could think of that he would need and headed to the hospital. There was some concern on Sunday that they wanted to send him home and he was really in a lot of pain. The nurse assured us they would not send him home if he was still on IV pain meds, but of course it was up to the doctors and there was some rumor they wanted him to go home and wait for the swelling to go down and then we would have to get in touch with a surgeon on our own and schedule a surgery. Well, obviously we were a little anxious. What, do I just find an elbow surgeon in the yellow pages? And what do I do with my 6’4” husband in the meantime when he’s writhing in pain and pieces of his elbow are just floating around in his arm? Yeah, we were sort of pissed. Fortunately, the surgeon from the night before came in and said Bill would not have to go home and he was handing off the case to the best trauma surgeon in his practice. We just needed to call the office the next day and he already had the records and everything. We felt better and relaxed a bit. Bill had some visitors and many people were texting to check in and wish us well. I went home about 4:00 to take care of Grace. I felt sad and alone. I think part of it was remembering the powerlessness from the last time Bill was in the hospital (11 days in 2016 for lymphoma). And I don’t like being without my partner in life. It’s like something is missing all the time. I painted my nails because that is just always helpful in a crisis situation.

Monday morning I went running (I think all of the adrenaline in my body made it one of the best runs ever) and when the orthopedics office opened, I called and waited on hold for a long time until I finally spoke with a medical assistant. She was friendly enough, but told me there was nothing they could do for me because Bill was in the hospital and the hospital needed to contact the surgeon directly. I was confused and irritated. Bill called and was getting upset because no one would tell him anything and when I said I didn’t get anywhere with the surgeon’s office, he got even more anxious. I told him to ask his nurse to page the surgeon. I texted Larry and headed to the hospital. By the time I arrived, Larry had already spoken to the surgeon and called to give us the news that the surgeon would be coming to see us and he even gave us the surgeon’s cell number. I don’t even know how we could possibly thank Larry enough for handling all of that for us. Within about an hour, the surgeon’s PA arrived and she was terrific. She explained everything they were going to do and assured us that we were in good hands. She arranged for us to come to their offices on Wednesday and said the surgery would likely be on Friday. We felt so much relief and Bill felt ready to go home. They kept him again that night in order to get him off of the Dilaudid, but prepared him for going home on Tuesday. I went into work Monday afternoon and everyone was incredibly supportive and kind. I don’t know how much actual work I got done, but it helped to be surrounded by caring people for a few hours.

Tuesday, I went to work and Bill called and said he would be ready to go at noon. He was all ready when I got there and we were out of there in no time at all. I’ve got to say that after his last stay there, they’ve really gotten some of their shit together. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn't nearly as frustrating as before. We got home and Gracie was so very happy to see him. We got Bill showered and into bed. I think we both fell asleep. Hospitals are exhausting. I went to pick up his Oxycodone and of course some ice cream. Sweet Linda and Dave brought us a delicious salmon dinner and we went to bed early.

Our appointment was at 1:00 on Wednesday and we were very pleased with the surgeon and his staff. A sense of humor is very important to Bill and they definitely had that. They explained how serious the accident was and that they could definitely repair it, but it wouldn’t have exactly the same functionality. He would be able to play golf though. They scheduled us for first thing Friday morning and I took Bill home and went to work. Sabrina brought us yummy chicken noodle soup for dinner.

Thursday, I went to work and Bill rested as best as he could. He actually was very capable of taking care of himself the whole day. I came home to see him making fish and sautéed spinach. I mean I did have to wash the dishes, but still. Haha!

Friday, we had barely slept and were up by about 3:30 so we could leave at 5:00. Of course right before we left, Gracie thought it would be funny to sneak out and run around the cul-de-sac and not come back. It was not great timing. I caught her and put her back inside, but my level of tension was a little high. Bill suggested we try and chill out and that of course made me even more irritated. After about three silent minutes driving, I asked him where I wanted the doctor to attach his arm if they have to amputate. He said his butt was fine and then everything was back to normal. The surgery was at the new hospital and it was a quick drive, especially at 5:00 am. We found the surgery floor easily and were greeted by the most delightful young woman with a pink beanie hat on. She and Bill had each other laughing so hard. We learned her husband loves soap operas and she likes NASCAR. We finished checking in and they brought us back to the pre-op area. I had to wash Bill with these antibacterial wipe things and put on his gown. We got to talk to the surgeon for a little bit and he was in a great mood. Very funny guy. We met about four people on the anesthesiology team. I think the anesthesiologist was about 12. They explained they were going to insert a nerve block in his neck that would numb his arm for about three days. Also, he would be under general anesthesia for the surgery. Everyone was super nice. They gave him a sedative so he got a little goofy and I know you are wondering, how can you tell since he’s always goofy. Well, he had to go pee and the restroom was across the hall and well the gown doesn’t exactly close in the back and he asked several people in the hallway if they wanted him to moon them. Yep.

My folks arrived before they took him back to surgery and it wasn’t long before they wheeled him away. I gave him a kiss and we left him in the doctor’s hands.

My Mom, Dad and I went down to get a coffee and then Linda arrived with fancy muffins. I didn’t realize how hungry I was so I was so grateful for her kindness and forethought. The surgery started at 8:01 and the four of us just sat around and talked and laughed. It was a very welcome distraction. They had told us the surgery would last two hours so at 10:00, I was ready for the doctor to come out. Sue arrived about that time and at 10:15, the lady in the pink hat called my name and asked us all to go sit in the consult room and the doctor would be in soon. I have watched a lot of hospital shows and after surgery, the doctor always just goes out into the waiting room and tells the family how the surgery went. Always. I’d not heard of a “consult room,” but I imagined that’s where you go for bad news.

Linda assured me that it was just for HIPAA regulations, but after 15 minutes of waiting, my foot would not stop shaking. I had fears that the doctor would tell us something went wrong and Bill had died. My heart was breaking. In that 15 minutes, I imagined all sorts of horrible things. You see, Bill is my heart. I don’t want to live without him so I’ve already told him that when he goes, I’m just going to be buried alive with him. Well and now we have Gracie so she’d have to be buried alive too. And there’s Buckwheat. Well, all of that is just a lot of logistics and frankly I don’t have time for that.

Needless to say, the surgeon finally came in to talk to us and Bill was just fine. The surgery had gone as well as could be expected. Of course his elbow was not going to be perfect, but it would still be pretty functional. The surgeon asked if we wanted to see pictures and of course we all did. They had removed several pieces of bone that were too small to reattach. Apparently, a person doesn’t need all the parts of their elbow. Who knew? When we saw x-rays it was pretty shocking. All of the metal parts were black and there was a lot of black. A giant screw going down his forearm and the elbow was now full of plates and screws. The surgeon explained this was a pretty intense surgery and his soft tissue would be quite swollen and sore. There was risk of the bone not healing well and the recovery would be a long one. He wanted to see Bill back in his office in a few days just to check on him. Then he said we could see him in about half an hour and he could go home that day.

We were all very relieved that he was OK and celebrating the fact that he’d get to go home so soon. Linda and Sue left as to not overwhelm Bill with visitors and we waited for Bill to wake up. Finally, the nurse called us back to the recovery room. My Dad and I walked for what seemed like forever to room number 50 and Bill was there in a recliner. The nurse explained later that they tried to keep him in a bed, but he kept trying to roll over on his injured arm so they were forced to move him to a chair. To try and describe what we saw sitting in that chair is very difficult. It did not look like Bill and it did not act like Bill. He seemed to be aware of who I was, but he was definitely not all there. He said he was in such excruciating pain and his arm was on fire. Now he had a nerve block that was supposed to make his arm numb so the anesthesiologist could not figure out why he was hurting. But he was really hurting. They gave him five different pain meds trying to get it to stop. I sent my Dad back to the lobby because I had left Bill’s cell phone there. He went back and told my Mom that Bill looked really bad. Then she came back to sit with me and she was shocked by what she saw. This was not our Bill. He continued to go in and out of consciousness, sometimes saying the pain was better and then again worse. The nurse told him it was his decision to stay or go, but they could not let him go if his pain was not controlled with oral meds. You could tell he really wanted to go home, but that was impossible in his current state.

It was 1:00. I had been sitting in uncomfortable chairs worrying all morning and I was hungry and really wanted to go to sleep and they had to wait for his surgeon (who had just gone into another surgery) to admit him into the hospital. I texted my friend Alicia “is it wrong that I really, really just want to go home?” Her husband so kindly called me back and offered to come up there and sit with him. I said I would let him know if we needed that. My parents went and ate lunch. They brought me back a sandwich, but food was not allowed to be eaten in the recovery room. Feeling very “hangry,” I went to the waiting room and ate and texted with Alicia for a few minutes. I think it was the best sandwich ever and I have no idea if it was chicken or tuna salad. Alicia just let me be frustrated and upset and didn’t judge me as being a selfish wife. I mean of course I didn’t want him to come home if he was in pain, but I’m not a saint. I get tired and grouchy and I’m human. My blood sugar had returned to normal and talking to Alicia had helped tremendously.

I went back to the recovery room and miraculously, Bill started coming around. His pain had lessened and he was sounding like himself. Bill started joking around like he does and saying he was ready to go home. The nurse got us checked out pretty quickly and I ran and got the car and picked him up in front of the hospital. We went home and fell asleep. Then I went and picked up his hydrocodone. I’m so paranoid about pharmacists thinking I’m a junkie that I felt the need to explain Bill’s whole situation. Like it’s any of their business. Or they even care. Friday was a long day and we were pretty wiped out. Gracie and Buckwheat were very sweet to Bill.

Recovery from this is going to be slow. Bill hurts a lot. We are both pretty tired. We are so grateful for the family and friends that have come to visit and/or brought food. We had several people offer to keep Grace for us, but we feared we would miss her too much. Thanks to Sue and Dave for walking her. I am overwhelmed by offers to help out and check in (Ruth, Bill, Anth, Adan, Nik, Connie, Ralph, Judy, John, Mike, Sharon, Chris, and I am sure I am forgetting others). I owe my parents a huge thank you for being there for me the entire time. It makes us feel very loved and lucky. We try to joke a lot. I tell people I pushed him down the stairs so we could get out of some event. I also tell Bill that I'm installing one of those electronic chairs that goes up the staircase. And then there are times when this whole thing is just a sucky, suck, suck and I hate it. I don’t want to stay positive and be helpful. I want things how they were and I want my partner to be 100% like before. And I know there are people facing tougher things in life and I’m sorry for them, but I’m allowed to occasionally feel what I feel and not be ashamed of it. It’s just a process and we will survive. And Bill’s new elbow is going to be fabulous. And so will we.