When half of you is in pain

I was dramatically reminded that I am only half a person without my sweet wife.  She fell and broke her hip April 3.  She is repairing in rehab now, but I know what guys mean when they refer to the wife as "my better half".  It's not really surprising.  Scripture clearly teaches that the man leaves his father and mother and cleaves to his wife and the two become one flesh.  When that half is in pain, you are also in pain.  That pain is not as sharp, that's true, but it is severe discomfort nevertheless.

We were coming out of the nail salon following our pedicures.  Since I refuse to have my toenails painted, I am always the first one finished.  I waited in the car.  When she emerged from the shop she suddenly tripped over something and fell to the pavement.  I jumped out of the car and offered her my hand to get her to her feet, but she begged off, saying she wanted to wait until the pain subsided.  It didn't.  I offered again, and when she declined again I began to entertain the idea of a broken hip.  I tried to push it out of my mind, but there it was.

Many times when I was still a kid I remember hearing of some old geezer who broke her/his hip.  It wasn't much later that I heard of the passing of this geezer.  A broken hip seemed like a death sentence for anyone who qualifies as an old geezer.  But things in the medical field have improved a great deal since I was a kid.  Cruelly as it seems to be, they get you out of bed and walking right away.  The pain, though more than unpleasant, is not fatal.  Inactivity, however, is fatal.  Bed sores, pneumonia, locked joints, shut down organs et al. settle into your body and it's all over.

All this to say Barbara is my heroine for gritting her teeth and walking what looked to me like home plate to first base (90 feet).  She hopes to be home by Saturday.

When all the nail salon people came rushing outside, someone said they would call for 911.  But Barbara cried out, "No, no, no...they will only charge us a lot of money and they won't take me where I want to go."  So here she was, lying on the cement with a crowd around her, and no one quite knowing what to do.  So the girl who had just finished working on Barbara ran back inside and came out with the bottle of polish and began to repair her sullied toenails.  Get the picture?  Here is this lady, lying on the sidewalk, probably with a broken hip, and the girl was busy touching up her nails.  It seemed like a rather ludicrous option of priorities.

Next to arrive were two girls who worked at the Subway shop two doors down from the salon.  They were sweet and solicitous, expressing great concern.  Well it turns out that they were as strong as they were sweet.  Someone brought out of the salon one of the chairs with wheels.  These two girls lifted Barbara right up off the pavement and into the chair.  They wheeled the chair to the car, and then lifted Barbara out of the chair and into the car.  From there I knew what to do.   Barbara wants to find those girls as soon as she is able, and shower them with all the Avon they want (and more) as a "thank you" for their efforts and their sweet concern.

I drove to Kaiser's Emergency Room, went inside and told them that my wife may have a broken hip and I can't get her out of the car.  I let them take it from there.  They did seem a bit puzzled as to how she got into the car in her condition, but no one pressed the issue.