(Real life explained with some pretend)
Beloved came in from the car and found his favorite chair, but he didn't sit back and relax as was his usual habit. Instead he perched on the front edge of the seat and stared straight ahead with a little forlorn expression on his face.
It had been an interesting morning, as you may remember my saying in yesterday's post. Lots of road construction, a poor map to our destination, and then parking in the wrong garage once we got there. We overcame all of that but then once we were in the class room to learn about joint replacements, we were seated at the very back and some guy near us was slow in turning off his cell phone, which made it hard to hear the vital information we so wanted to hear.
As it turned out, a good deal of the information we already knew from our personal research efforts before that day. But a few surprises popped up, too.
I pulled up my chair close, hoping my action would help him to open up about what was on his mind. He had pushed his glasses up on his forehead, something he rarely does. He was looking a little whupped.
"Beloved, tell me, what is it? You look so worried. What's got you bothered?"
He sat there for a few more moments, looking out across the family room before opening up.
"Did you hear what they said when asked how to make the knee replacement last longer?"
I sat back and thought. Hmm. Well, yes, I did recall. "They said it should last from 15 - 22 years, depending if you take good care of it."
"Yes. But I can't jog or run or play ball!" He looked down at his hands and his head just sunk down onto his chest.
"Beloved, you don't jog now, you never run, and you don't really have anybody to play ball with. They did say you can bowl and play golf, and I heard them specifically say you'll be able to fly fish."
With that said, he began to feel better. So did I. I patted his hand sweetly and went into the kitchen to fix lunch.
All medical procedures are to be taken seriously.