... so after his four-hour surgery, Rob was wheeled into the after-hours recovery room and I wasn't able to see him until about 7:40 p.m. Bear in mind that I'd been waiting there since 11 a.m., on top of the hour and a half-plus commute. Finally, FINALLY, the chick at the reception desk decided to let us all go back to see our loved ones -- there were a couple other people there.
I went to find Rob and the sight of him, all pale and drugged, sitting up with his eye patch on and his gown half hanging off his shoulders was enough to break my heart. "Hi honey, " I said. "How are you feeling?"
"My butt hurts," he replies.
I get all concerned. "Your butt hurts? Maybe you're sitting too long in the same position."
"No. They penetrated me. We have to go after them."
Seriously?
You come out of anesthesia, when you're supposed to be as truthful as you'll ever be -- when we get a brief glimpse into your naked soul and THIS is what I get? Jokey the one-eyed clown? Sigh.
I told him the next day and he was inordinately proud of himself. He asked if he was quiet and I assured him that he was pretty much just blurting it out for all to hear.
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