In Sickness and In Health

“I, Kathleen, take you, Stuart, …for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…” And with those words, I married a songbird.

Stuart whistles. He is cheerful and contented and he whistles. I hear his car hum into the driveway in the evening after work and he whistles his way up the walk and into the house. The house is happier when he’s home.

But one week he didn’t. One week there was no whistling. Stuart was scheduled for simple outpatient surgery. We formulated Plan A. The kids and I would drop him off at six in the morning and pick him up when the nurse called to say that he was ready to come home. There was no Plan B.

The phone rang around eleven. “Your husband is out of surgery. He’ll be ready to come home in about an hour.”

I packed the kids in the car for the second time that morning and made the return trip to the hospital. We tiptoed in to pick up our charge. The nurse tried to help Stuart to his feet. He almost passed out and had return to the bed.

“It will just be a few more minutes. You can wait in the waiting area if you like.”

John and Lauren and I sat together in a big chair. Waves of nausea washed over me. I was newly pregnant with our third child. I felt sick when I ate and sick when I didn’t. A sweet nurse pulled blankets from the warmer and held them up to the children’s faces so they could snuggle in their warmth.

Stuart’s nurse came out. “I don’t know why you brought those children with you! He’s going to be here a while. Every time we try to get him up his blood pressure drops.”

We waited.

The cranky nurse fought with the doctor who said, “I’ve never admitted a patient overnight for hernia surgery and I’m not going to start with this one.”

“Well, sir, you’re going to have to let this man stay. He’s in no shape to go home.”

The nurse won. I was grateful for her tenacity.

The kids and I returned home. I wandered around in a fog and put lunch on the table. Stuart’s sister called. “How’s he doing?”

“Not very well. His blood pressure kept dropping. He’ll be at the hospital over night.”

She shared Stuart's medical history with me." It's the anesthesia. He always responds like that to anesthesia. When he had his wisdom teeth out, he slept for two whole days.”

(Stuart has a terrible memory. Leave it to him to forget something like this!)

“Are you doing OK? Do you mind if I pray with you?” His sister started to pray. There was such comfort as those words came over the phone that I cried for the first time that day.

The next morning a friend called to check on us. I told her our story and she offered to take the kids while I made another trip to the hospital.

“Is there anything you feel like eating?” she asked before we hung up.

My pregnant body had definite likes and dislikes. I took mental stock of her pantry. “A peanut butter and fluff sandwich would be wonderful.”

I dropped off the kids and picked up a lunch that her husband had put together. Two peanut butter and fluff sandwiches. Heaven. I drove and ate and basked in their kindness.

This time Stuart was ready to come home. We made our way slowly to the car. I helped him into the passenger side and drove slowly over the speed bumps. As I steered around potholes and slowed down for bumps, Stuart told me about his night.

“As soon as they laid me flat, I felt so much better…My roommate was a young guy in for hip replacement surgery. He had a rough night. Turns out he’s an alcoholic and was having DTs. They had to strap him down and hold him still so that he wouldn’t destroy the repair they had just made. He screamed all night. I couldn’t sleep. I just laid there and prayed. I was glad that I was the one that they put him with.”

I helped Stuart into the house and into bed. The kids came home but the house was so quiet. The kids sat on the sofa and read. I pushed them on the swing in the backyard. We went in and made dinner together and ate at a quiet table. Stuart was home but something was missing. The whistling. I couldn’t believe how much I missed his whistling.

For three days, the house was filled with an unnatural silence. There was kid noise...and yelling. Mine. Pull yourself together, Kate. It’s your turn to be the caregiver here. You promised. Calm returned and so did the silence.

On the fourth day, Stuart puttered around the house. He made his way out to the living room. He lay on the sofa and read to the kids. He wandered out in the kitchen to visit with me and he whistled. The cheery sound filled every room. It felt like the sun had risen in my heart once again.

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