Pure-de-Love

She had been coming every day that week for her chemotherapy in August of 1986 to the outpatient chemotherapy department where I was working.  This particular day I noticed the color in her face had noticeably improved and she exhibited a 'spring' in her step.

She did not hesitate as she entered the treatment room.  She entered boldly and with a sense of purpose! Her ever-present companion and marriage partner of 48 years assisted as she positioned herself on the, anything but comfortable, hospital bed.

"Hey, he's a pretty good nurse, huh?" an attendant in the room remarked to her.

"Oh the best, absolutely the best, whether I'm in the hospital or at home," she answered, grinning proudly and winking.  In so doing she exposed the catheter under her collarbone where the medications would be administered.

"Oh, you two!" another patient teased.  "What makes it work so well after so long anyway?"

While I slowly gave the prescribed potent drugs, the pampered patient and her husband began to share.  He spoke first, "You learn that you can't just take and take.  You have to give and give just as much, maybe more."

"True", she nodded in agreement in his direction.  "We've had our moments.  Why, I've even wanted to knock his block off a couple of times."

Then, her crystal blue eyes stared into a private space.  She began to verbalize her feelings carefully, slowly.

"You figure out after a while what's really important.  You know, the common sense stuff, like learning you can live just fine without credit cards.  And you let the housework go for a day if he wants you to go fishing with him.  You can't just up and get a divorce if you don't agree on something.  You take time to talk.  You make time to listen.  You take time to be alone and you make time to be together."

With her worn beige handbag propped between his knees and never more than two feet from her side, I watched him gaze at her with pride.

A nurse's aide step next to me and whispered, "Pure-de-love."

Then, snapping back into the present, she directed a final warning, "You know girls, life is too short to be unhappily married."

"Well, we're through already? Let's get some of that ice cold protein drink from the dietician before we leave, dear.  Think I'll try chocolate today.  Nothing like a cold drink on a hot august day." She ended our impromptu counseling.

"Chocolate it'll be then, Hon," he answered while zipping her paisley printed dress.  "See you girls tomorrow."

Away they walked, arm in arm.  Pulling off gloves and disposable gown, I breathed a quick prayer. "Thank you Lord for unscheduled lectures.  Please help me refine my listening skills to avoid missing even one of them! Amen"

That evening when I arrived home I hugged my husband with an extra squeeze!!



Becki Hawkins
www.ladyhawkpublishing.com
author of Transitions: A Nurse's Education about Life and Death