This week leading up to Easter has been some week in the Fred and Annie family. 

Fred and I took the boat to Wilson Lake on Tuesday where it met up with all of its boat friends. (Actually, not many of them had arrived yet.) This ritual was an outing for us, for sure. There are not many activities that we can do for outings these days, are there? During that morning, Fred suddenly got very ill. It was strange and did not fit him well. He never gets sick. It happened fast, like a body slam. 

We left the lake early and came home. It got no better. It just got worse. Several days passed, and even with doctoring, it continued to be a very frightening experience. And no, it wasn’t coronavirus. He got weaker, and we didn’t yet know what was happening. His bout landed him in the hospital. And believe me, he was willing to go. Now, after 4+ days in the hospital, he is much better, and coming home. We are thankful. 

I have learned that we gain valuable pointers with any experience, good and bad, and I want to share with you some thoughts from this past week. They are random, and certainly not probably valuable to anybody.

First of all, Fred’s hospital experience was a good one. He was well taken care of, and I was relieved to not be in a state of constant concern. I hope that all the attention from the efficient nurses and an attentive doctor haven’t spoiled him too much. But on second thought, being in a hospital is not quite as comfy as home. They don’t want it to be, I’m sure, or no one would ever want to get well and go home, right? Fred didn’t think the bed was designed for sleeping, and couldn’t be more uncomfortable, nor the chair. I’m sure that’s common, but Fred commented, “It’s probably me.” He didn’t sleep much. No one gets rest in a hospital. The sicker you are, the less rest you get. That’s because the crew measures, weighs, pokes, and jabs at all hours. Yes. I believe I am on to something big! They want you to get well and go home. 

The hospital is not like it was a month ago, come and go, come and go. Not now. It’s a high security, totally button-down the hatch, hospital. I couldn’t enter the front door with him, nor could I go visit him. The restrictions and the modus operandi are geared entirely to avoiding any chance of contact with the Covid-19 coming in the door. I say hurrah for them! So, I couldn’t see Fred unless I wanted to stand outside by his bedroom window and wave! That wouldn’t work since we don’t know sign language. I wasn’t that desperate yet. But, much longer, and I maybe would consider it.

Another pointer still. Once again, I have to face the truth that I don’t know everything, but I think I do. I guess I am an aged teenager. I think I can figure out health issues if they are mine or Fred’s. I have all kinds of bits of information swirling in my head, so I stab at whatever makes sense to me (at the time). Thankfully, we have a doctor who listens to my advice and suspicions with patience because he knows that if he doesn’t, I may suddenly lift off like a whirligig and fly to the ceiling in a state of stress and panic. Yes. That’s right. I know you all think I am calm and cool. Well, sometimes. If you don’t know what a whirligig is, it is a spinner that is found in yard décor.

And last, now I know the feeling of being the only one in the house. I truly can grasp what it is to be alone, and I know it is an adjustment that we all have to make at some time...well, not those of us who leave this earth before our spouse of course. But I am meandering anyway, suffice it to say I get it. Back to the point. Being alone, I have been talking to myself, and I find things that I lose, because I answer myself and then, there it is. There’s two of me; the one who can’t find my glasses or phone, and the other one who says, “it’s on the table by the bed, remember?”  I have been talking to the cat and dog more, and they seem to take up the slack. Don’t tell Fred.

Next week we will get serious again. I am glad that Fred is coming home. 

Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached at juditabler@gmail.com or juditabler@awomansview.