I'm pretty sure that M would stand for "Mmmm, I don't think so. Writing 4 posts in one day?" N is for Not Happening. O is for Only Four People Read This Blog Anyway, I Think.
Or M could be for My Weekend was More than Full with a Women's Retreat. N could be for the Nervous Energy I used in Saturday's skit. O could be Oh Good, Roommate, We Agree We Need Sleep More than a Campfire and S'mores.
Or, to stick with the theme of hubby's surgery for the A to Z Challenge, I could do a very quick recap of the things I was originally going to make into full posts.
M would have been for Marriage. Suddenly after 29 years I was thinking that we were just getting started in this love journey. The years had gone by too fast. I wanted to grow old with him, not just to middle age. I wanted the joy of being grandparents with him. I wanted to celebrate his retirement and then we'd do some traveling. I wanted to capture all the details of his face, remember the color of his eyes, feel the strength in his hands, keep hearing his voice in more conversations. I didn't want the marriage to end on the operating table.
N was for the Nurses. Hat's off to them!! Two things I must include would be:
1. Ashley was our favorite. We had her for three days. On day 1, she was chipper and
sweet, professional but down-to-earth. Day 2, chipper and sweet. Professional and down-
to earth. My husband asked her on Day 2, "Are you always like this? I thought maybe
on the first day it was because I was the new kid on the block, but you're always so cheerful."
She giggled and said it was her personality, and she loved her job. Day 3 we were convinced. God bless her!
2. Male nurses are a far different breed from female nurses. One small example: the way
they make a bed and give the patient an extra blanket. The females would take the fresh sheets and get the "hospital corners" just so. Fluff the pillow. Help hubby into bed from start to finish. Gently lay a blanket over him and tuck it in at the feet. The one male nurse , on the other hand? Polar opposite. Yanked the clean sheets, shoved the corners under, did a quick swipe for more-or-less straight results, offered Paul help into bed, but presumed he was okay on his own (he needed more help as the chest does a lot of work when you're trying to lie down). Then he didn't offer a blanket; I had to ask.The male nurse then said, "Oh, sure" then snapped one open and practically tossed it willy-nilly onto the bed. Like he was a frat brother or something. It wasn't bad, just different. Made me smile at the difference in the sexes when it comes to nurturing.
O would have been for Operation, had I posted in full. But I'll talk about the results later.
The serious talks we had from November (when we consulted with the surgeon) till January 5th (the date of surgery) completely refocused us. What had been minor was now unimportant. What had been major was a little less important. And what we had dared not face before was now inevitable. We drew closer. We discussed what we had avoided.
POA --Power of Attorney. The legal stuff we had been too afraid to face in our younger days was now not so hard. Our three grown kids were each responsible to be appointed POA if we needed. All three are good with finances, two are professionals in financial fields and understand the lingo. It's wonderful when your choices are "good, better, and best" in a weighty matter.
We are so thankful that all of our kids and daughters-in-law get along well and there's deep trust that they will stick together and not fight over who gets what we're we dead and gone. None of them wanted our "stuff" when we asked about specifics. Maybe that'll change but they all, right now, are minimalists. They aren't attached to material things. To me, that is so gratifying. They have such confidence that God will provide for their every need. They are not big spenders but are savers. They are generous. They love to be together. They are hospitable. They value people. What a blessing!! I can't overstate that enough.
We chose a POA from among them, and they agreed it was a good choice. We chose a guardian from among them for our youngest son. He's 14 and we asked for his input. He was insightful and mature about it. Decisive, too. So that choice was also easier than I imagined.
So writing our wills was relatively painless. POA, executor, guardian--all those terms that I had emotionally shunned when all our kids were minors--weren't scary anymore.
Talking about end-of-life medical stuff was MUCH harder. We gathered for a family pow-wow with our four kids one Sunday afternoon to discuss all the legal issues. The most painful part was medical directive. What IF Dad died in surgery? Did he want the DNR order (Do Not Resuscitate) ? Heroic measures? Resuscitation but nothing heroic--just food, water, oxygen, morphine, but no more interventions? That part was hard to talk about, but necessary, and certainly having Paul choose what HE wanted, and telling all of us at the same time so that there was no question about it later, gave me a peace. He opted for the middle ground --revive/food/water, but let him go if there was no quality of life.
Well, this post was just about 4 days long. But at least this is the last sentence. I didn't mean for it to be as long as a last will and testament!