New Tears.
She seemed to be doing so well. Her sense of humor was right on target. Talked to her on the phone at lunch on Thursday night. I was laughing so hard that tears were falling.
Yesterday afternoon, (Friday) forty-eight hours after surgery and time to remove the dressing. I went to the pharmacy before work, while she was sleeping. I purchased extra thick padded gauze, four by fours and tape so she could dress it again if needed. A guy came to the door with flowers and get well balloons from her friends at the plant. I left her a note. "Damn, if I ain't been trumped. All I got you was bandages". That's what the note read.
So, I'm way back off The Dock at around nineteen-thirty hours last night when this kid Johnny comes flying back through the racks on one of our faster pieces of equipment. Me and this other guy, we were moving some big stuff around with a lift. Johnny says my wife is on the phone. Johnny has this look of concern on his face. The guy I'm working with tells me if I have to go to let Johnny know and they will take care of my card.
I enter the foreman's office and he exits quietly. He lays his hand on my shoulder as we pass. I pick up the phone and I don't recognize the voice on the other end. Well, I recognize the voice but there is a tone that's new to me. We've been together almost fifteen years. I have never heard her cry like this.
Sobs. No breath. Short choppy breaths. Sobs. I tell her to breathe. I tell her I love her. I leave the foreman's office. I tell Johnny that I have to go, he already has my lunchbox and my sweatshirt in his hand. Seems he answered the phone. He knew I'd be leaving.
The foreman nods with feeling. I nod back and head for my old Jeep. I'm home in minutes.
She's on the patio when I pull up the alley. I don't say anything, just hold her and those breathless sobs that I heard on the phone come back tenfold. I don't say anything. I just hold her.
Our older girl was at work. Our younger girl was doing her best to keep it together for Mommy.
I get her in the house, sitting at the kitchen counter. I have to hold her, she might fall and hurt herself. It takes about twenty minutes for her to get it all out. I give her a glass of water with a straw. I make sure it was not one of the pink straws.
Seems that when she removed the bandage it all came flooding over her. She didn't know what to expect. She didn't even know where on her breast the stitches would be. She called her friend from work. All her friend could make out were the words; "I can't breathe". The friend tried to call back and got no answer. She was on the phone with her father's girlfriend over in Jersey and ignored the call waiting. The friend came to the house. He's a good guy. I called him back and thanked him for his concern. He said no problem. Like I was saying, he's a good guy. So I called her father's girlfriend back, she was glad I was home. She's the one who told my wife to call me and get me to come home.
My wife talked to our younger daughter. They hugged. My wife motioned me to take her out of the kitchen and talk to her. The little baby girl understands. She's okay. She knows Mommy needs to cry and get it all out. She went to bed with a jazz mix CD playing.
The short breaths started again. The sobs. The New Tears. It took a couple hours for her to tell me all about it. I didn't ask, she needed to talk. Best I could do was hold her, listen to her, be there. We were up 'til like 0300. We were both up again just now. She's laying down again. I'm writing this.
I'm going to the grocery store. First I'm going to take a nap, or try. I'll probably end up on the couch watching cartoons with the little baby girl who ain't that little anymore. She's almost twelve. Doing well in school. The older baby girl is working a ten hour shift today. I think her boyfriend is picking her up at work. She'll call if she needs a ride.
It's on the cooler side, cloudy. Not a nice day for doing outside stuff.
Everything is changing. My wife has breast cancer. I'm afraid the New Tears are here to stay. I'm afraid the New Tears will never go away. Can't stop the New Tears. Maybe it's supposed to be this way. Maybe the New Tears will lead the way.
Hey Tommy. Man, do I wish you were here.
Yesterday afternoon, (Friday) forty-eight hours after surgery and time to remove the dressing. I went to the pharmacy before work, while she was sleeping. I purchased extra thick padded gauze, four by fours and tape so she could dress it again if needed. A guy came to the door with flowers and get well balloons from her friends at the plant. I left her a note. "Damn, if I ain't been trumped. All I got you was bandages". That's what the note read.
So, I'm way back off The Dock at around nineteen-thirty hours last night when this kid Johnny comes flying back through the racks on one of our faster pieces of equipment. Me and this other guy, we were moving some big stuff around with a lift. Johnny says my wife is on the phone. Johnny has this look of concern on his face. The guy I'm working with tells me if I have to go to let Johnny know and they will take care of my card.
I enter the foreman's office and he exits quietly. He lays his hand on my shoulder as we pass. I pick up the phone and I don't recognize the voice on the other end. Well, I recognize the voice but there is a tone that's new to me. We've been together almost fifteen years. I have never heard her cry like this.
Sobs. No breath. Short choppy breaths. Sobs. I tell her to breathe. I tell her I love her. I leave the foreman's office. I tell Johnny that I have to go, he already has my lunchbox and my sweatshirt in his hand. Seems he answered the phone. He knew I'd be leaving.
The foreman nods with feeling. I nod back and head for my old Jeep. I'm home in minutes.
She's on the patio when I pull up the alley. I don't say anything, just hold her and those breathless sobs that I heard on the phone come back tenfold. I don't say anything. I just hold her.
Our older girl was at work. Our younger girl was doing her best to keep it together for Mommy.
I get her in the house, sitting at the kitchen counter. I have to hold her, she might fall and hurt herself. It takes about twenty minutes for her to get it all out. I give her a glass of water with a straw. I make sure it was not one of the pink straws.
Seems that when she removed the bandage it all came flooding over her. She didn't know what to expect. She didn't even know where on her breast the stitches would be. She called her friend from work. All her friend could make out were the words; "I can't breathe". The friend tried to call back and got no answer. She was on the phone with her father's girlfriend over in Jersey and ignored the call waiting. The friend came to the house. He's a good guy. I called him back and thanked him for his concern. He said no problem. Like I was saying, he's a good guy. So I called her father's girlfriend back, she was glad I was home. She's the one who told my wife to call me and get me to come home.
My wife talked to our younger daughter. They hugged. My wife motioned me to take her out of the kitchen and talk to her. The little baby girl understands. She's okay. She knows Mommy needs to cry and get it all out. She went to bed with a jazz mix CD playing.
The short breaths started again. The sobs. The New Tears. It took a couple hours for her to tell me all about it. I didn't ask, she needed to talk. Best I could do was hold her, listen to her, be there. We were up 'til like 0300. We were both up again just now. She's laying down again. I'm writing this.
I'm going to the grocery store. First I'm going to take a nap, or try. I'll probably end up on the couch watching cartoons with the little baby girl who ain't that little anymore. She's almost twelve. Doing well in school. The older baby girl is working a ten hour shift today. I think her boyfriend is picking her up at work. She'll call if she needs a ride.
It's on the cooler side, cloudy. Not a nice day for doing outside stuff.
Everything is changing. My wife has breast cancer. I'm afraid the New Tears are here to stay. I'm afraid the New Tears will never go away. Can't stop the New Tears. Maybe it's supposed to be this way. Maybe the New Tears will lead the way.
Hey Tommy. Man, do I wish you were here.
posted by Squarehead at 8:53 AM
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