4 min you can’t get back

 

My Thursday - 

• Nervously awake in fear of missing early alarm
• See time of 4:45 and relish shot at another half hour of sleep
• Lie awake for 20 minutes
• Get up annoyed
• Find dusty to-go coffee cup on top shelf
• Start large K-cup brewing (with difficulty because coffee maker doesn’t seem to appreciate being awake yet either) & put on happy face for Jason even though it’s his fault we’re up at this ungodly hour
• Ask him if he’s nervous, tell him it’s a nothing burger, remind him not to swallow any toothpaste, & ask him to take out the trash for the last time in 6 weeks
• Reach for coffee but see no elixir of life in the tall morning chalice
• Mutter “I hate this stupid machine”
• Mash buttons
• Step aside as Jason mansplains “Just do this” and presses same 3 buttons I did the first time and every time for the past 5 years (plus one extra)
• Hear coffee start to drip
• Grit teeth
• Dam the torrent of sarcasm flooding my soul
• Say “thanks”
• Grab car keys & backpack loaded with Carrie-tainment for the day
• Savor sound of my IV drip that will soon parallel Jason’s
• Wonder if he might actually have some magic touch with our moody machine because its drip sounds more like a flow 
• See the coffee truly is flowing…over the edge of my cup all over the counter and floor
• Realize the first attempt did work after all, the cup was just too tall to see it
• Accept that we would be late to the surgery center

Jason laughed. I laughed. Well, I burned my fingers snatching away the tall cup to replace it with an empty one. Then I misjudged its height yet again as I moved it toward an empty bowl and knocked its bottom against the edge spilling hot liquid on my toes. At that point there was nothing left to do but laugh. Swear and then laugh.

Three days have passed since that fateful morning, and I haven’t had 60 seconds free to come back and write. I had aspirations of tying the jovial narrative to a meaningful insight by way of illustrating pain is relative. I had three supporting examples: (1) Jason’s post-op isn’t going at all like my coworker’s did after his shoulder repair. (2) My children’s favorite fight when they were little was whether “that hurt or not” after their silliness turned to madness and caused injury. (3) I wish I could just be happy like everyone else. Pain is relative. It was going to be an award winner.

Now it’s 5:30 PM on Sunday, I still have chores to do, the dogs make themselves sick eating figs every 2 hours outside, the fig tree is afraid Jesus might stop by, and I’m regretting my choice of hobby. Plus Jason is miserable. He can manage the pain with Tylenol and immobility, but he can’t sleep and the internet only lasted him until roughly 3:15 AM Friday. So, how am I going to turn this post into something you don’t resent for stealing 4 minutes of your valuable time?

I can’t. Here’s my feeble attempt - laugh at yourself. Be kind to yourself. Serve those around you when it’s convenient and when it’s not. I babysat some friends’ preschoolers yesterday while their family got moved to a new house, and I don’t regret it. My back does. This post does. But Jason & I have our priorities straight. Have a great week! I hope your 4 minutes with me were well spent.