View from outside the storm (standard:non fiction, 1172 words)
Author: Eutychus	Added: Oct 27 2002	Views/Reads: 3712/2416	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A recollection of the aftermath of a neurosurgical event from 1987

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

For some reason my mood suddenly improved. The last time I had had this
prescription filled was a day before my second surgery and a nurse who 
was curious regarding the noise coming from the shower managed to all 
but spoil the moment. She was totally unsympathetic to our need for 
intimacy prior to a potentially dangerous surgery and scolded us for 
trying this in the “potty", as she insisted on calling the bathroom, 
reciting a long list of safety concerns. 

“I apologize for any broken rules, but for the length of time I'm here,”
I said, and broke into my worst rendition of a Leslie Gore tune, “it's 
my potty and I'll try if I want to.” 

Sometimes there is no point in even attempting humor. 

“So how often do I need to take this medicine?” I asked hopefully. 

“As often as necessary, I suppose,” she said, forcing a smile. The lack
of genuineness in her smile concerned me, and I had some idea of why. 
Before the surgery I had done too much homework into potential 
outcomes. Some of the post-surgery studies had shown changes in the 
personalities of the principal players. I had fixated upon this element 
and voiced concerns over possibly no longer loving her as I had before 
surgery. I could see that she was looking at this discussion with the 
doctor as a way of protecting her investment, and I had never intended 
for her to draw this feeling from anything I may have read or said. I 
simply look for the worst-case scenario in any situation in order to be 
ready for it. 

Damage control of this situation was lengthy and had to be sustained for
quite a while. At present, fifteen years later, I still hear about my 
concerns that never came to pass but that had frightened her in a big 
way. And for my own part, I will occasionally remind her of a suggested 
stress management technique whenever work gets to me and I am feeling 
tension in need of release, though in the fifteen years following my 
surgeries, I'm sure I've developed other coping mechanisms. Of course, 
I will never admit to this. 

Have you ever noticed that when you talk to folks who have weathered
hard times or trying situations, years later it is those situations 
that they look back on with the greatest fondness? I guess it isn't the 
bright days and sunny afternoons that prove love. That proof comes in 
times of darkness when the darkness fails to overwhelm and fracture. 

And it reminds us of its enduring nature at the oddest of moments. I
began this reminiscing shortly after my son opened his health book in 
my lap and told me that they had been discussing non-infectious 
diseases like “eplidepsy” in school today. My wife and I looked at each 
other and smiled at the mispronunciation. 

“Do you want to know about epilepsy, Caleb? Have a seat and I'll tell
you a story.” 


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