dear husband

I’m bad at sympathy. I’m awful waiting hand and foot. And, for most things, I kind of adhere to the “Suck it up” motto. I would have been a 1950s wife fail.

So, five days post-op from sinus and throat surgery, this is what I handed the hubs.

Edited Urgent Memo

Call it a nudge to get back to reality. Tough love, maybe? Or, maybe, a last ditch effort to salvage my sanity.

I know he feels bad, and I do feel sorry for him. But, he can get his own medicine and pudding at this point. I already have to do those things for the two in diapers in the house. And, I can’t even fathom the thought of waking up with him in the middle of the night for medicine in between parties with the other two.

Can I blame my lack of sensitivity and sympathy on exhaustion?

I wish I were better at this. I wish I had the energy to race up the stairs at his every need. I wish I had the patience… and stomach… to hear about all his ails. I wish I had another set of hands to tend to his medicine, snacks, blankets and movies as soon as he wanted. And, I wish I had the time to keep him company while he feels crummy. Cue Best Wife Ever award.

I’m lousy at these things for any longer than the first few days, and the two littles suck any extra time I might have to become decent at such. But, don’t think he is being abandoned.

He is loved. He knows he is. There are pudding, popsicles, ice cream, soup and applesauce to feed an army. I have changed more bloody gauze than I thought my poor, weak stomach could handle. And, I battled with the pharmacy and drove one and a half hours yesterday to ensure he did not run out of this pain medicine in the middle of the night.

So, even though I can’t bear to change any more gauze or hear about his clots or mix up another cup of meds, I will always take care of him. He’s in good hands – extremely sarcastic hands, but it’ll do.

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