John slipped that into a longer sentence, while I'm getting settled in. The words both took the longest time to hear and the shortest time.
I decided to wait until I got home to cry. I couldn't. So, I grabbed a tissue from his box, and offer him one. He's just grinning and shook his head.
Tears came. Sobbed followed. But it was one of those sobs I knew was going to take a long time, so I pushed it back down, looked up at him, and he's using a tissue. Spent the rest of the time somewhere between bursting out into my happy dance and saying, "Nope!" (Nope! As in "Not going to cry.")
And here I am close to three hours later thinking I'm starving, but I want to have that sob now, but I'm starving. So, I really can't figure out what to do with myself.
I did let him know some things are about to really change for both of us:
1. No! I'm not making him meatballs next week for him to have at the nursing home. (Much easier for him to teach me -- or him to make it, we're not agreeing on which can happen yet -- next week at home.)
2. No! I am NOT ever going to ask him about his bowel movements. (A nurse stopped by to ask.)
3. No! I am NOT checking his blood pressure and taking his temperature every eight hours. (Another nurse stopped by for that.)
4. Yes! Now that his wound vac is gone, I will learn how to dress his wound. (They'll do it here when he comes home, but not on weekends.)
5. Yes! To the dentist for new teeth ASAP!
I feel like Scrooge on Christmas morning! Something-something about schoolboys, giddy, and larks. Hunger is calling, so not looking it up yet.