Choices

There are certain things in life that you cannot choose. You cannot choose your parents, and you cannot choose your in-laws and if you are a patient in a hospital, you do not get to choose who they put next to you in your room.

Life is an adventure, and recently my husband needed surgery, a very serious surgery, the kind that gives you the heebie-jeebies in your stomach. So to say the least, you are a bit on edge and you do not need anything to add to that stress....enter the roommate. I sat by the bedside of my husband for 10 days. 12 hours a day for 10 days. Within that time he had a total of 4 roommates. One died. Stressful to say the least, for me anyway, as hubby was still blissfully oblivious taking full advantage of better living through chemicals.

The next roommate was from Louisiana, and apparently a kingpin in some nefarious underworld organization. He had been flown to this hospital on a private plane, and with no scheduled appointment, demanded to be seen by the Neurosurgery team. He had an entourage of about 8 distinctive characters, who demanded that the nurses pay them patient respect. 2 of the nursing team refused to walk into the room, and security was called to prevent additional intimidation. He was only there about 48 hours, but it seemed like a lifetime to me. He was finally given the identical diagnosis from the team at this hospital as he was given by the Drs in Louisana, the old man suffered from ALS and it was not going to get better, in fact it was going to get worse and get worse at a rapid pace. As soon as he received the news, his entourage bundled him up, contacted the private plane and left. They did not check out, they did not check with anyone, they just picked up the old guy and left. I could hear the theme song to The Godfather playing ever so softly in my head.

The 3rd roommate was an unbelievably aware 92 year old man who just wanted to get home to make sure that his wife of 65 years was OK. She suffered from early stages of dementia and he wanted to make sure that she was all right. When it was determined that he was too weak to go home, the hospital staff made sure that he was sent to a re-hab facility where she could go with him. It makes me smile to think that they will still be in the same room after 65 years of marriage enduring a separation only through WWII, and neurosurgery.

The last roommate was a musician, who when driving suddenly lost his sight. Scary.

And like I said in the beginning, there are certain things in life that you do not get to choose. I did not choose for my husband to have a brain tumor, but it happened. And you deal with it. The levels of stress along the way seem to ebb and flow like a river. I will admit that the roommate dying, and the godfather episode truly added to the stress, but the endearing charm of the 92 year old pharmacist as he relayed his concern for his wife to the nurses released all that pent up stress. And the dulcet speaking voice of the musician was soothing as well.

Life, they say, is about choices. I think everyone should know that sometimes you do not get a choice, and when that happens, the only thing you do get to choose is how you will react.

Stress comes and goes like the tide, I have learned that you need to acknowledge when it is great and to celebate when it is nil. I am in celebration mode as we are back in our house, choosing to be slugs on a dreary overcast Sunday afternoon. No stress there.