Is it Saturday already?
At times, this week has flown by. And at others, it has dragged on.
Especially from 5 a.m. to about 11 a.m. on Tuesday morning when Tim had surgery on his foot. He plays in an adult soccer league and a week ago Tuesday, he got kicked in the foot. That swift kick (aside from being malicious as he no longer had the ball) broke four metatarsals and his big toe. Hence, surgery and pins in his foot.
He is, as we say, down for the count. And I’ve always known and appreciated all he does for us. We both work outside the home, so it takes a well-tuned machine to keep the household running. And the last two weeks, we’ve been running on empty.
And there are at least 1000 little things that he does that I’ve either forgotten about or haven’t noticed lately. Things that I’ve been doing along with the 1000 little things that I do every day.
Things like the Thanksgiving turkey. In all our years of marriage, he has handled the bird. Even when we have birds for regular meals, he handles the fowl preparation. This year, I did it. Brined it overnight in salt water, bourbon, hot sauce, garlic, honey, and lemon juice. Then I roasted with herb butter rubbed into the skin.
After tasting the turkey, Tim has declared that bird preparation is now my duty.
After four days in his recliner (all sans shaving, showering, changing his clothes, or wearing deodorant), Tim finally made his way upstairs to sleep in the bed. This morning, he asked if I would help him get a shower. The discharge instructions said that he had to take sponge baths. I had informed the discharge nurse that wasn’t happening.
He smells better now, but I’m not sure how clean he actually is. He opted for the shower with a trash bag tied tightly around his cast. A short shower because it was difficult to get clean whilst trying to keep one leg dangling out of the shower and scrub the rest of oneself clean.
And he spent another day drifting in and out of sleep as the kids and I buzzed around him. He tried to help, but the medication makes him so tired. He did go to the boys’ soccer game this afternoon, but I think he was in more pain than he cared admit.
These last two weeks I’ve realized how much we rely on each other to keep everything running smoothly. And what a farce it is to think we’ve got anything running smoothly at all!
There is no such thing as smooth.
And I’ll take bumps in the road and the adventurous life any day.
Shattered metatarsals and all.