Friday, 7 June 2013

My hero

Otherwise known as the diva, the woose, or the worrier.
My husband.

This week I was meant to be in London overnight.
I was meant to have an exam first thing Wednesday morning.

But Mr J got the date for his op.
And whilst I thought I could organise childcare to cover everything. Just.
Mr J was worried and wanted me to be there with him.
And that was that.
Mr J is a worrier. Although that's what he thinks of his mum. Perhaps not registering he's inherited that trait.
Like flying, the hospital, doctors and medicine, Mr J almost has a phobia.
Only the worst is possible.

So, due to an understanding boss, and a wonderful mother.
On Wednesday Mr J and I got to the hospital on time.

Only to find out, as it was day surgery, I was not able to stay with him.
And then to get told off as Mr J hadn't brought his dressing gown and slippers with him.
(Mr J's excuse: he doesn't have a dressing gown, it was really hot on Wednesday so he wasn't going to buy one when he'd be too hot to wear it. And... why wear slippers when you can wear Crocs).
He's a man let's not go there.

I have to admit, it was one of the first times that I've ever been annoyed with someone employed by the NHS.
There was no appreciation of how nervous Mr J was.
Admittedly he's six foot two, it might not be obvious.

So, off Mr J went.
And I took myself off to the local Starbucks.
I had taken some work to 'entertain' whilst Mr J was in surgery.
Luckily it turned out I took four hours worth.
And when I phoned as agreed, it turned out he still wasn't out of surgery.
So, I even had time to explore the retail park and bought some things to do with the children.
And as I got to the car to decide what to do next, the phone rang, I could make my way back to the hospital.
To see this:
In his words, he felt on top of the world. He had got through the operation, albeit his legs were shaking quite badly when he went for the anesthetic.

My Hero.

We now have at least two weeks of chaos.
Mr J can't drive, change nappies, or do anything which might risk his hand getting wet.
And of course it's the hand he writes with.

So, life will be fun.
At the end of day 1 he was stir crazy.
Having exhausted everything he was capable of doing by 10am.

And we get to try and manage my diary around picking up and collecting the children, and relying on my mum when I'm working away.

Times like this I can't believe moving to Wales was ever an option. We couldn't be without family.

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