Angel Love
Mike came to the hospital the next day. I had plenty of time to think about things, and I had made my decision. When he sat down, he asked me if I was mad at him. He wasn't going to get the best of me; he wasn't going to come there and ditch me like he thought he was going to do. I asked him if he had talked to anyone from my job. He said he had and then told me about my job. I told him that I didn't care; I had other things to worry about. I told him I would be getting out of the hospital in a few days and that when I did that, I would not be going back home. I told him to pack all of the kid's things and mine and take them to my mom's house before I was released. I told him that I would get my uncle to help him if he needed it. His mouth was just hanging open, and his face was red, and his eyes were watery. Was he acting like he cared? Probably just acting; more than likely, he was just upset that I was the one who got to give the breakup speech. I told him that he had made my life hell for years, and I was done with putting up with his drinking. My kids deserved better, and so did I. And then I told him to leave. He was stuttering and stammering and just standing there. I rang for the nurse, and my very own male nurse came in. I told him that I had told Mike to leave my room and that he could not come back under any circumstances. He looked at Mike and told him to leave now, or he would call security. He left. I won.
My nurse came back to my room and asked me if I was okay. I told him that I was fine and that I was relieved. I thanked him for telling me what Mike was going to do. It allowed me to control the situation. He asked me if I was upset about it. "Only for my kids, but even they will be better off without him." I meant every word of it. He asked me what I was going to do, and I said I would just have to go to my mom's until I could find a job. He asked me if I wanted to stay with him until I was better. He was frank and charming, but I told him no. I told him that I wouldn't be at my mom's long. He looked a little hurt, I knew that he liked me, but the last thing I needed was another man in my life. "You helped me do something that I have wanted to do for a very long time; I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been so nice to me. I will always be grateful to you for your friendship; I will always remember you." He looked very sad and told me that he cared about me. I told him that I knew he did and that he helped me get well and helped me be strong. I told him to walk over to the bed. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and said, "Thank you, my very dear friend." He had tears in his eyes and said he would go get me something to eat and left the room.
He came back in with a Whataburger, fries, and a Dr. Pepper. Wow, real food. He asked me if he could eat his dinner with me, and of course, I said yes. We didn't talk, we ate and watched television. It was a little awkward, but he deserved some niceness. When we were done, he asked me if I was ready to walk around (to build my strength up), and I said yes, but I was tired, so I asked him if we could make it short. We only walked the floor one time, and then we went back to the room. That was a lot of work, especially when you walk bent over a little. He helped me in bed and went and got my pain shot for me. I laid in bed until the psychedelic effects that the shot had on me finally knocked me out. I felt him come and cover me up.
The next day, I called my mom and told her what had happened; I told her that I would move out as soon as I got a job. I told her Mike would bring my things and the kid's stuff to her house and not to say anything to him, above all, don't get involved in it. I asked her to get Uncle Jerry to help bring the stuff in. I was not looking forward to being cooped up with them for 8 weeks; it would have to be a sped-up healing process.
When my friend came on duty that day, he brought me flowers. He said they were to celebrate my freedom and were for good luck. What a nice guy. He told me that I would be discharged the next day unless the doctor changed his mind, but either way, my stitches would be coming out the next day. I wasn't looking forward to that; I was very protective of my little tummy gash. I was lucky. Instead of them cutting me down the middle and around to my side, the doctor made an incision that was about 4 inches long. He said that since I was thin and young, he could do that. I was grateful.
My nurse stayed in my room talking to me off and on all evening. He gave me his address and phone number just in case I needed anything. He said this would be his last shift with me, and he would go back to his regular hours. It had been an easy assignment for him; it gave him a break from the norm. And I'm pretty sure that he got paid more for being a private duty nurse. I don't know what I would have done without him. He took exceptional care of me. Nobody had ever done that for me before; he helped me in every possible way that he could. I thanked him for everything he had done for me. He told me that my husband was a foolish man. I agreed with him, and he laughed.
I told him that if I ever became sick again, I would come back to have him take care of me, but only if he checked the bed for safety issues. We both laughed. He brought me the last pain shot that I would get. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone, but he left me a note. I won't disclose what he said. It was sweet and personal, and I kept that note for many years. Sometimes when I would be depressed, I would take it out and read it, making me feel better. He was a doll.
Dr. Nick came in and removed my stitches. He had stringent instructions, no lifting, no bending down for 2 weeks, and no work for 8 weeks. I liked him; he had a cute sense of humor. Back then, I wore Chantilly cologne. Every time he examined me, he would sing Chantilly Lace. Not the whole song, but several lines of it. He left and went and signed my release papers. I was waiting for my uncle to pick me up.
When my uncle got there, he gathered up all of my belongings for me and put them on a cart. He asked me if I wanted my flowers. "Of course, I do." He asked me where I got them from and said they looked very fresh. He asked me a second time where I got them. "An angel that set me free gave them to me, Uncle Jerry."
And we left the hospital. I left the hospital as a single person, and Mike and I were done no matter what happened. I felt terrific about it.
My nurse came back to my room and asked me if I was okay. I told him that I was fine and that I was relieved. I thanked him for telling me what Mike was going to do. It allowed me to control the situation. He asked me if I was upset about it. "Only for my kids, but even they will be better off without him." I meant every word of it. He asked me what I was going to do, and I said I would just have to go to my mom's until I could find a job. He asked me if I wanted to stay with him until I was better. He was frank and charming, but I told him no. I told him that I wouldn't be at my mom's long. He looked a little hurt, I knew that he liked me, but the last thing I needed was another man in my life. "You helped me do something that I have wanted to do for a very long time; I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been so nice to me. I will always be grateful to you for your friendship; I will always remember you." He looked very sad and told me that he cared about me. I told him that I knew he did and that he helped me get well and helped me be strong. I told him to walk over to the bed. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and said, "Thank you, my very dear friend." He had tears in his eyes and said he would go get me something to eat and left the room.
He came back in with a Whataburger, fries, and a Dr. Pepper. Wow, real food. He asked me if he could eat his dinner with me, and of course, I said yes. We didn't talk, we ate and watched television. It was a little awkward, but he deserved some niceness. When we were done, he asked me if I was ready to walk around (to build my strength up), and I said yes, but I was tired, so I asked him if we could make it short. We only walked the floor one time, and then we went back to the room. That was a lot of work, especially when you walk bent over a little. He helped me in bed and went and got my pain shot for me. I laid in bed until the psychedelic effects that the shot had on me finally knocked me out. I felt him come and cover me up.
The next day, I called my mom and told her what had happened; I told her that I would move out as soon as I got a job. I told her Mike would bring my things and the kid's stuff to her house and not to say anything to him, above all, don't get involved in it. I asked her to get Uncle Jerry to help bring the stuff in. I was not looking forward to being cooped up with them for 8 weeks; it would have to be a sped-up healing process. When my friend came on duty that day, he brought me flowers. He said they were to celebrate my freedom and were for good luck. What a nice guy. He told me that I would be discharged the next day unless the doctor changed his mind, but either way, my stitches would be coming out the next day. I wasn't looking forward to that; I was very protective of my little tummy gash. I was lucky. Instead of them cutting me down the middle and around to my side, the doctor made an incision that was about 4 inches long. He said that since I was thin and young, he could do that. I was grateful.
My nurse stayed in my room talking to me off and on all evening. He gave me his address and phone number just in case I needed anything. He said this would be his last shift with me, and he would go back to his regular hours. It had been an easy assignment for him; it gave him a break from the norm. And I'm pretty sure that he got paid more for being a private duty nurse. I don't know what I would have done without him. He took exceptional care of me. Nobody had ever done that for me before; he helped me in every possible way that he could. I thanked him for everything he had done for me. He told me that my husband was a foolish man. I agreed with him, and he laughed.
I told him that if I ever became sick again, I would come back to have him take care of me, but only if he checked the bed for safety issues. We both laughed. He brought me the last pain shot that I would get. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone, but he left me a note. I won't disclose what he said. It was sweet and personal, and I kept that note for many years. Sometimes when I would be depressed, I would take it out and read it, making me feel better. He was a doll.
Dr. Nick came in and removed my stitches. He had stringent instructions, no lifting, no bending down for 2 weeks, and no work for 8 weeks. I liked him; he had a cute sense of humor. Back then, I wore Chantilly cologne. Every time he examined me, he would sing Chantilly Lace. Not the whole song, but several lines of it. He left and went and signed my release papers. I was waiting for my uncle to pick me up.
When my uncle got there, he gathered up all of my belongings for me and put them on a cart. He asked me if I wanted my flowers. "Of course, I do." He asked me where I got them from and said they looked very fresh. He asked me a second time where I got them. "An angel that set me free gave them to me, Uncle Jerry."
And we left the hospital. I left the hospital as a single person, and Mike and I were done no matter what happened. I felt terrific about it.
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