Remember my 'that ain't right' back? How about my big girl panties? This turns out to be a trilogy ending with 'The Boss of Me.' Seems that the MRI that made the big girl panties necessary showed that my 'that ain't right' back is a big mess. Among other things, I had a cyst on my spine. According to the doc, I wasn't going to get any relief until that dadburn thing was removed.
Surgery was in my future. Turned out, the doc had an opening 40 hours hence and I took it. In just about 40 hours, I made arrangements to be away from work for 2 entire weeks, got my house in order, got my affairs (last will and testament, living will, durable power of attorney-not to be morbid, but something I'd put off long enough) in order, did some laundry, straightened my house, packed my bag and was processed into the hospital with an orange bracelet on my wrist that proclaimed me to be a 'fall risk'.
My parents were in the middle of a trip and due to be back at my house in a few days and they cut their trip early and came back right away. Everything fell into place in a most amazing way. I felt at peace about it all and quite frankly, I was looking forward to relief from the pain that I've lived with for nearly 5 years.
You want to know the hard part of all of this? The moment I realized that I was going to have to ask for help. Lots of help. For more than a day or two. Before we went to bed the night before the surgery, I looked at my precious Rocket Man and said, "For the next week and even longer, if the situation calls for it, I'm agreeing that You are the Boss of Me." Very seldom have I said words with more gravity, or meant them more. Hard words, those that surrendered my independence into his safekeeping.
I think that my Prince, in his infinite wisdom, knew how hard that was. His is the last face I recall seeing before I went into surgery. When they woke me up in the recovery room, I asked for him. When they took me to my room, he walked in behind me. He took up residence at my bedside and only left me a few times, and then only when someone else was by my bed. He called for the nurse when I needed her. My parents and daughter and a bunch of preachers were there, too, and it took a village to take care of me.
He brought me home and helped me get settled. He helped me shower, get to the toilet, and has changed my dressing. He has overseen my medications, entertained me and held my hand when it hurt me too much to have him hold me. And you know what? The surrender has not been difficult. How could I be anything other than grateful to one who cares so for me? With purpose, I gave up my sassy self and allowed not only the dear man of my dreams, but also my wonderful parents and my precious daughter do for me the things I am so used to doing for myself.
And, isn't that just how things ought to be? Isn't that what the marraige of hearts, minds ,souls and bodies works in a perfect world? The sweet surrender of my independence ushered in the tender and careful care of my person that I will hold dear in my heart forever. Much of what happened is a haze. Drugs really were my friends. But a week out, I am feeling so much better than I felt 2 weeks ago. The surgery has relieved a great deal of pain...pain I had become so used to that I'm amazed off and on every day at how easy it is to simply walk across the room.
I'm being a very good girl. I am not picking up things that weigh more than 5 pounds. I am asking for help, even if I think I can do it myself. I'm learning a lesson that I seem to require on occasion. That is the lesson of gratitude. For all the mercies, prayers, food, phone calls, emails, facebook posts and love that I have received from my friends and family, I am very grateful. I fear it will become harder to adhere to the rules and honor the bestowing of bossness upon my Prince as I feel better. I am afraid that when the pain and stiffness subside, I'll want to be the Boss of me before it is really a good idea. I'm not sure, but I have a hunch. I've known myself for a long, long time.
The boss of me? Absolutely! I couldn't have found a better person to be the boss of me than my Prince. He is wise, he is the funniest human I have ever known, he is gentle yet he can be firm. He loves me in ways that take my breath away. He's cute to boot. He can be the Boss of me... because after all, we really are happily ever aftering here in Camelot!