Normalcy

I have the reputation here at Camp Clifford as the guy who wants to live the same week every week, with no change.

Awake at the same time. Morning routine is the same, and you can set your watch by how my day winds down.

We’ve been in obvious turmoil because of the hospital visit, and I spent two days wandering around the halls  of Buffalo General.

I heard a couple of families who were absolutely crushed by the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth.

My routine days are just gigantic ‘to-do’ lists and every day I play a game of ‘Beat the Clock’ to see if I can finish everything.

There are no ‘to-do’ lists when someone is recovering from what turned into a major operation, and all that is going outside the windows of the perfectly polished halls, doesn’t mean all that much.

So, I stayed even keel, and shit-canned thoughts of doing everything else.

I filled the water glass, moved the blanket, checked the blood pressure on the crazy monitors hanging behind the bed, and Kathy spoke to every nurse or aide or doctor who walked into the room. I waved a couple of times.

There’s nothing ‘normal’ about a surgery.

“Visiting hours aren’t until ten tomorrow,” Kathy said. “You should hit a couple of sites tomorrow before you come in. Get a little of your routine back.”

I laughed because it was what I needed, but thought I was hiding it well.

So, I did.

Visited two big sites, and was the first in line to get the pass for visiting hours. 

We talked about the kids, the cat, things that needed to be done around the house, and what recovery was going to be like.

Conversation that we started more than 32 years ago.

At one point the nurse came in and somehow the discussion got around to her saying:

“Maybe you can talk your wife into it.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “She listens, nods, and then does whatever the hell she wants to do.”

“We’ll get normal back,” I said. “Or we’ll make a new normal.”

But man, it felt great to get the boots on for a little while.

“Now we gotta make sure you get a round of golf in.”

“A minute at a time,” I said.

Right now ‘normal’ seems a little weird anyway.