Love in Action

I have never won anything, so I was leery when I received the Winner's Notification in the mailbox. I threw it away with the junk mail without even opening the envelope, but hopeful curiosity would not leave me alone. Feeling foolish for even thinking this might be a legitimate bit of mail while I picked through the morning's coffee grounds, I delicately removed the mail from the kitchen trash, thankful that I quit smoking. I opened the soggy envelope and pulled out the notification letter and a check for $10,000 made out to me. Reading the enclosure took me back to March of this year.

Last Spring, I took a tumble trying to get a bucket to my partner, Angie, before she barfed on our bed. Lacking in coordination and grace, in my effort to be fast my toes got tangled in my pj’s and I flew forward and hit the ground with no less force than the space shuttle reentering the earth’s atmosphere. As a result, I broke my pelvis and shoulder in addition to dislocating a hip. I could not believe that I had fallen and could not get up—it really happens! Our bedroom is clear in the back of our home, and I was stuck in the doorway between the master bath and the bedroom. I am confident the EMS workers were reminded of getting a camel through the eye of the needle when they were removing me from that doorway and through our narrow, cluttered, heavily furnished home to the ambulance.  On the positive side, Angie forgot to barf, so I was successful in avoiding a mess on the bed. It was three days before she remembered she was sick; by then, I’d had surgery and we knew we’d be looking forward to a lengthy recovery, including some time in a rehabilitation facility.

We received a warm welcome at the rehab center, which I found out was another name for Nursing Home. The average age of the residents had to be 103 and mental acuity was not something to be taken for granted in this population. Even with the heavy duty narcotics I was taking for pain, I knew enough to be afraid. I was so glad Angie was there for me, not just to visit now and again, but in watching for neglect or abuse. She made sure that I was fed the right food, given the right meds, and my behind got the right treatment. Angie was there to give me baths, help me with my bedpan (egad!), and make sure my feet were lotioned. As my healing progressed, she participated in my physical and occupational therapy so that she was equipped to assist me at home. And she paid our bills, took care of the cats, did both of our jobs at the club where we worked, and still climbed up in bed with me to snuggle and watch a movie and giggle like schoolgirls when the nurses came in the room. Angie was my greatest strength during this time. She was my hero; no, my superhero. It is no small feat to take care of home and work and a loved one in a nursing facility. And my nurse, Aimee, saw that too.

As it turns out, a business in our community wanted examples of love in action and offered a grand prize of $10,000 to the winner. Aimee entered me and my Angie into the contest. She submitted a paragraph about our love. She described our joy in being together and our attempt to make my room a home and to enjoy activities together. She outlined the other ways Angie displayed love: Helping with other residents when they were agitated or confused, assisting the nurses in any way she could, even helping with the housekeeping when she saw an opportunity. Because of Angie’s selfless display of love to me and others, we won the contest and I was awarded the grand prize to be spent on Angie.

I was bursting with the excitement of winning and could not tell anyone for fear they would tell Angie. If she knew we won $10,000, she would not allow it to be spent on her. Since I still hobble around and need physical and occupational therapy, I do not have much independence. I have to spend this money on something really nice for Angie without her finding out about it without leaving home.  Successfully surprising Angie is tantamount to squeezing the Charmin without Mr. Whipple finding out! And to surprise her with a surprise worth 10K is even bigger. I could barely keep this to myself simply out of excitement and to add the absolute necessity of secrecy to this situation made me feel as noticeable as a nun in her 9th month of pregnancy. If she entered the room, I’d say “Wrong number” and slam down the phone or minimize all the windows on my computer screen so she could not see what I was doing. Several times she asked what I was doing, and feeling as sneaky as if I were having an adulterous affair, I’d answer, “Nothing.” She knew something was up, but could not get it out of me. I was so proud of myself when I completed the task and finalized the arrangements.

When the doorbell rang, of course Angie answered the door because I am still on the mend. I wish you could have seen her face when the keys to her new car were presented to her and she got to take me for a ride to get some ice cream. And we giggled like schoolgirls all the way there.