Short Story #1 - Lean on Me

The problem with not writing for so long, is that now I want to write about everything that’s happened over the year-long week that has just finished: Doug’s first post-op week, friendships, the weather, single parents and how I ran my way through it all.

Where do I start and how do I go about it without writing the longest post ever? I’ve decided to write a few short stories, starting with Doug and how I handled things. Or didn’t …

On Valentine’s Day, Doug, who doesn’t celebrate the day (and to be honest, neither do I), said “Happiness is a wife called Irina”. What does that have to do with anything? Not much really, but I saw it written in my blog notes and thought, “aww that’s such a sweet thing to say”. Then I thought, “hmm, I wonder if the sentiment still holds true”. And then I did a little mental recap of the last week. Doug had his operation on a Thursday exactly ten days ago. Covid rules meant that I could not go in the hospital with him. He had to go through the whole thing completely alone. Did he complain? No. Of course, I now know he was not completely alone. He had nurses, lovely nurses he called them, who looked after him and brought him endless cups of tea and fussed over him. Still, he could have made a big fuss. But he didn't. I brought him home the next day. His leg was twice the size, he needed two crutches to move, he was taking loads of medication and he was in pain. Lots of it. Did I know? Not really, because he did not complain or mention it once!! I actually had to ask him on Sunday if he was in pain. He said, yes, but that he just wanted to quietly get on with it. Quietly get on with it? QUIETLY GET ON WITH IT? A concept completely unknown to me…

I have complained so much this past week that even I am fed up with me. To be fair it has been a very, very demanding week. Work has been extremely full on, Doug though not at all demanding needed some looking after, I had to manage all of Frankie’s after school activities, walk the dogs, do the chores around the house, cook and of course stay on top of running. There were just not enough hours in the day. Waking up at 6am every morning and not stopping till 9pm, feeling I hadn’t done anything properly. I made sure the world and his mother knew what a heroic martyr I was. As the dust settled over the weekend, a newfound admiration for single parents dawned on me. How ridiculous was I? Get over it Irina. You’ve had a tough week. So what? Single parents do what you did and a lot more for years. Get off your high horse and get on with it.

The most ironic thing was all I really wanted to say to Doug was, don’t worry, I’ve got this, you can lean on me. I was even singing the song in my head, “lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on…” Instead, what came out was completely the opposite. More like “Help” by the Beatles, “help, I need somebody help… and now my life has changed in oh so many ways, my independence seems to vanish in the haze…” Conclusion is I felt sorry for myself and I am not proud to admit it. I even complained about running. Oh, I am so tired, how will I run? Oh, it was so difficult. Ridiculous is the only way I can describe me. I want to learn from it though, especially as the coming week will not be much easier. I challenge myself to handle it better, appreciate that I am healthy and strong enough to take on life’s challenges and be able to look after my favourite person in the whole wide world and take a page out of his book on the power of positive thinking.

In the next short story, I will talk about the British weather, the Spring that never was, the lack of swallows, the disappointed lions and the fact that global warming is not making the UK any hotter.