Predicaments and Ponderings Blog

Isn't that the logical question? I mean, everyone I know must spend sleepless nights in their hubby's hospital room. Let's be honest. Who doesn't love the leather (fake) recliner and its wooden gearshift on the side, to recline your feet? That's comfortable, until…well… You need to sleep. You brace your feet against the footrest and shove with all your might to lay the back of the chair into that oh, so cozy position of flat. There should be instructions to tell you not to unbrace your feet, lest the back of the chair catapult you face-first onto the floor. Yes, these are the comforts of the longing family member who sits, certainly not sleeps, keeping watch over their loved one through the night in a hospital room with no thermostat. If there was one, it is obviously hidden from view, locked into subzero temperatures, and all you can muster from the male nurse is a thin white sheet. I had to wonder what or who was covered with it before it was given to me, and whether they were breathing or not when they were buried beneath it. But then, who am I to complain?

I decided after God performed a miracle for the prince, one which I am more than grateful for and I sing His praises for, that I would search for the humor that had to be hidden in the crevices of this hospital stay. I'd not slept for months. What was a few more nights?

So, I snugged my sweet prince tight under his "heavy" blanket and then made my way to the elevator. The doors slid open, and I stepped in, running my finger down the buttons in search of the one labeled lobby. Floors B. L. 1-14. Wait! Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, fourteen. There's no thirteenth floor. Could this secret hidden floor be where the thermostats were kept? No thirteen? Surely, this wasn't like a hotel where they refuse to label a floor unlucky thirteen—not in a hospital. I mean, shouldn't that be the one place where all the luck in the world lands?

I pressed L because at least that floor existed, giving me hope I wasn't living in the twilight zone. The elevator bumped, and I felt my stomach meet my ears. "Oh, sweet nausea." When the doors opened, I made my way past the coffee shop and into the gift shop. What a beautifully expensive shop. Since my feet were already blocks of ice, I decided to go for a pair of socks. That gift shop had a better selection of socks than Macy's at Christmas. Which, by the way, had I gone the extra $5, I could have had a pair of Grinch socks. I opted for patchwork, a bit less crabby.

This shop had everything: college attire, computer accessories, luggage, and even pet gifts. Not that a person in the hospital would need a gift for their ailing pet, who should be at the vet, not the human hospital. And did I mention the candy counter? No, not candy bars, like Hershey's or Babe Ruth, but malted milk balls, truffles, and even chocolate-covered peanuts at $11.50 a pound. Again, something every hospitalized patient needed to add to their dinner tray.

I kept milling about until I happened upon a pen whose cap looked like a seal, and a Word Search book, marked "Large Print" and "Easy." That ought to pass the time. So, I snagged those two great finds, the patchwork socks, and paid.

Once back in the prince's room, I kissed him and tightened the "heavy blanket" around him, all the time chattering to a man who'd just survived a seven-hour surgery and was out like a light. At least he'd sleep through the worst of his post-surgical recovery pain.

I crawled under my electric blanket—oh, I forgot to tell you that. As we left the house, I remembered how cold the rooms were, so I grabbed my fuzzy, electric throw blanket. Smartest thing I could have done, though it wasn't big enough to cover all of me, the patchwork socks would get the rest. I flipped the switch to FOUR on my electric blanket and popped the seal head off the pen. I could probably work five or six of these puzzles in one night. After all, it was large print and marked easy. What puzzle to work on? Pizzas, no way. Pool Parrtty? American Life? Nope. And then. There it was. The one puzzle I knew I could blow through with ease. HOBBY LOBBY. I love Hobby Lobby, and despite their decision to begin shelving Halloween in July, I felt like I knew my way around the store. I could knock this puppy out.

Immediately, my eagle eye located the word "pattern." Ready and able, I glanced over my word list. What? No pattern? Seriously? Hobby Lobby has patterns (though only a few, they got 'em, but not my Word Search puzzle. My eyes scanned up the page, looking for double letters or words. There, right in front of me, four rows over and from the bottom up, "scrapbook." Have pen would travel. Once again, I scanned my word list for the obvious word, "scrapbook." Rats. That's such a good word. If it were Scrabble, I'd probably hit the TRIPLE THE WORD block. The night went on, and I found word after word, NONE of which were on my list. Oh, for Pete's sake. What is on the Word Search list? Seal. Pen. Rocks. Volunteers? When did Hobby Lobby start using volunteers?

After fighting a losing battle, I popped the seal lid back on the pen. A male nurse entered the room, drew some blood from the prince, and then stopped next to me.

"Nippy in here, isn't it?" He said.

I kinda wanted to smack him for that one, but instead, I covered my nose with my hands and blew into them. "I saw they had no thirteenth floor button on the elevator." Primed and ready to crack a joke, the nurse didn't give me an opportunity.

"Bad luck, and this is surgical recovery." He dropped the used needle into the giant red medical waste container.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope, it's been a bit of a joke since they repaired that elevator."

I cringed. "Repaired the elevator?"

"Yep. The button cap would never stay on the panel. Folks kept bringing it to the nurses' station and saying, "It's your lucky day. I found the thirteenth floor."

I slapped my palm to my forehead. "You are teasing me. Aren't you?"

He smiled and took my puzzle book from my hand. I watched as a grin stretched across his face. "You mind? I'm really good at this?"

"Knock yourself out. I thought I could breeze through Hobby Lobby, but not one of the crafting things I found, and trust me, I found several, are on that list.

"Tennis. Golf. Hunting. They're all here." The nurse began to laugh. "I see your problem. You were thinking of the store, Hobby Lobby." He closed the book and pointed to the author. Joseph Pine. "A guy wrote put these together. He was thinking…you know, hobbies.

I pulled my blanket over my head. "Don't you need to draw blood?"

The male nurse tossed me an extra blanket. "I'll see if the janitor can adjust the thermostat a smidge.

All that to say, there is humor in the hardest of times. I've really struggled with the prince having this surgery. I never had peace about it, and it drove me into nights of no sleep. Despite how I prayed, I never found peace. I couldn't catch a breath. Honestly, I was terrified.

I love my prince, my second chance at love, and I couldn't imagine anything going south any more than this surgery. Then the doctor informed me of my worst nightmare—a procedure I'd prayed would not happen. One, that might be necessary, but it could easily cause him a massive infection or worse.

God knows I'm a worrier. He'd already prepared for that, and now that I'm outta the danger zone with the prince, I see what my heavenly Father was doing. He was strengthening me. Teaching me that trust is easier said than done. He proved Himself faithful by caring extraordinarily well for Tim. In fact, we saw the doctor today, and she was amazed that ten days out, he has progressed to this point. God taught me that it was okay to ask my minister to drive 1.5 hours to Knoxville just to pray with us, because our minister WANTED to (not because he had to). That it was okay to accept the love and help of a cousin who sat by my side the entire day, and who brought my boys side by side to support their dad…and me. God knew I needed those stepsons, whom I've always called my "sons," to put their arms around me and tell me they loved me and that this would be fine. God knew my Orlando boy would be texting me all day just to check in, and that my brother would willingly hold down the fort with Chase and Mom, even though he wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. God already knew. The thing was, Cindy knew too. She was just afraid to let God do His thing. I don't think God is upset with me. Like I said, He knew when He made me I was a fearful child, and just like always, He put His arm around me and never once stepped away. He’s continually proving His faithfulness. He just knew He’d have to keep reminding me, kinda like I reminded my boys, “Brush your teeth.”

Go figure. God knew all that. Wonder why He let me believe it was Hobby Lobby, the store? Was it one last stab at humor? An, I told you so, sorta thing? I guess that's a question for another day.

Photo 1 – Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay

Photoo 2 – Image by Brett Hondow from Pixabay

Photo 3 – Image by WOKANDAPIX from Pixabay