LOL, of course you want to know the fun stuff!
After his 3rd day post surgery, he was going home. He told the nurse he didn’t need lunch because he was going home. I helped him get dressed, boots on because he was going home as soon as he got checked out. Folks came in, checked him, agreed that he could leave and gave the discharge instructions to a gold digging floozy (me, 30 years younger and so poor that I had to chose between buying cats good food, or doing the same for myself). So, I am helping him out of bed and a nurse came in with a wheel chair and told us that my BB had to use it to leave.
Cue outrage: I walked in here, I am going to damn well walk out!!! Nurse said soothing words, and left.
The next person who came in was also pushing a wheel chair, but she was a little old lady DAV volunteer, wearing her red vest with her service medals. My BB quietly got in the wheel chair and the nice little old lady let me push it while she walked next to us and talked about her time in the military.
Was that genius or what?
Also, his cardiac surgeon told him that he couldn’t have sex until he could walk up 3 flights of stairs at once, so we went to the mall every day and used the stairs there. While I did buy and carry a yoga mat and promised him that we would use it to have sex on the 3rd floor landing, there was a big sale happening the day he did it and I learned that he was shy.
His surgeon also told him that he couldn’t shoot a “real” gun for 6 weeks, so we had to go to the gun store for a .22 pistol. Doctor’s orders, don’t ya know.
He wasn’t supposed to ride in the front seat for the car for 6 weeks because an airbag would split his chest open again. I bought a limo driver hat and black suit to be his driver. We have been married for 8 years now, I love my husband, we have a good life together. He sold the .22 as soon as he was able to carry a real gun.
I still put the hat and skirt on at times, he’s imprinted on that.