It’s not supposed to snow a lot in Asheville, but this winter (like the rest of the country) we were covered up. During the last snow storm, my husband decided to shovel his car out of the driveway even though I told him there was a huge sheet of black ice and it was too dangerous, and in fact stupid. However, my dear husband was determined to get his car out of our driveway no matter what. Did I say I live on a mountain 2200 ft. high and our driveway is one hell of a steep slope?
I won’t bore you with all the details about our driveway and the fact that a standard 8 ft. plow is too wide to go down it. So, on that particular day, two weeks ago, my husband slipped and fell. He said he didn’t hurt himself and proceeded to walk around for almost a week with pain that eventually got so bad he had to go to the doctor. The next day, he was in surgery for a broken hip and 3 pins.
When accidents happen and you’re forced to get out of your daily routine and take care of someone, you get to look at how compassionate you are (or not) and how you react to change. For me, it began even before the accident. Unlike my husband, I just accepted the blizzard and the fact that I was stuck in the house and would be for a while. We had food, heat, books, music, T.V., computers, telephone, beer, wine, chocolate, bread machine, flour, etc. so why was he so anxious about getting off the mountain? Well, I asked him that question. And here’s what he said: “I just don’t like the idea of not being able to get out!”
I probed further. “What do you mean? What’s the big deal if you have to stay home for a few days?”
Husband: “I want to be able to get down the mountain in case of an emergency.”
Me: “What kind of emergency?”, I wondered.
Husband: “You never know. An E-M-E-R-G-E-N-C-Y. It could be anything.”
Me: “Oh, I get it. We have to be ready for an E-M-E-R-G-E-N-C-Y.”
So, here I am, being a caregiver to someone who is stuck on pre-emptive emergency planning who happens to be an impatient, cranky and frustrated patient relegated to a walker for maybe 6 weeks. So, thanks to my husband, I get to practice patience and compassion every day. Sometimes, I make his favorite comfort foods, and bring him éclairs when I am running errands. Sometimes, I want to punch him. This past Sunday, I even dropped him off at a Super Bowl party, very eager to do it, I admit. Of course, I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to do a two hour yoga class. Thank you very much Cindy Dollar One Center Yoga, Asheville for that opportunity for harmony and balance in my life this week.