Musings from a hospital bed

Warrior Woman …painting by Mary Payne

  When they put my cash away at La Palmosa they didn't tell me that I would need some if I wanted to call out on the hospital phone.  So, without paying,  I could receive calls but not call out. 
I had taken my cell phone for the weekend to Brea.    But the charger I thought I had, turned out to be the one for my camera, not my cell.  

  I had two bars left to call out on my mobile phone and I had no idea how many texts or calls that would be, so I hoarded my phone calls for emergencies. 


I had talked to Monsieur several times the day I was admitted as Jeanne had texted him and then spoken to him about my predicament.  When he called I could tell that he was in the middle of a crisis of his own.  He was more upset than I was and didn't want to come.  I was not pleased but  I have seen this before in other husbands ….a reluctance to visit a hospital (although Monsieur had visited me in past hospitalizations).   I know of at least two other married women who have reported the same thing when they were in the hospital.

  After talking to him for a bit,  I decided I didn't want him rushing out to rent a car or take a bus from Nice,  just to hold my hand.  I felt I had made a good choice with my surgeon and the worst was already behind me.    But I had Monsieur call my sister in Seattle and she became my emotional support.  I find that women are best at this and she was great.  

And I had a lively hospital roommate,  Solange,  a woman in her fifties.  She had been brought in as the victim of a "moto" accident.   A driver had not noticed her as he backed out of a parking space and her scooter had fallen on her and broken her pelvis.   Full of cuts and bruises , unable to rise up without agony for the bedpan,  she was in a fragile state.

 So right away, I felt like my ankle was nothing…a mere scratch.  And any anxiety I might have had about my own predicament was taken up with hers.   

Even after the operation was done and I was back in my room, I realized that I am a stronger person than I had thought.    When you are in a long relationship like mine ( 34 years together) you let your spouse take charge of a lot of things without really being aware of it.  After years you are not really sure of your own strength.   Here was a chance to see what I was made of. 


So for the six days I spent in the hospital, I decided not to alert my girlfriends and have it be total immersion into the world of the French hospital and the French language. 
  
   Anyway,  Monsieur has had his job cut out for him since I have been home and I am happy to report that he is stepping up to the challenges.  
 I have had visits from friends bringing a wheel chair and equipment, treats, lunches, wine, flowers,  rides, invitations and laughs but it is Monsieur doing the "grunt work"…. "the boots on the ground work".   Bless him.