Bless His Heart (and shoulder)

The latest status symbol amongst mature men is a black arm sling. It signifies a life of daring action, with rotator cuff surgery proclaiming to the world that they are, quite literally, movers and shakers. Our list of injured friends includes former football players, tennis champs, golf pros—and now, my husband. His claim to fame? A nasty dodgeball injury sustained while volunteering with our church youth group.
In a gallant effort to avoid colliding with a skinny little girl, he crashed to the gym floor, sacrificing his shoulder. As a former skinny little girl myself who dreaded any game involving a ball, I found his split-second decision heroic. His selflessness elevated him to new heights in my eyes, but it also launched him onto a long and painful journey of shoulder troubles.

From that moment on, lifting my luggage, carrying my shopping bags, and retrieving attic boxes became agonizing tasks for him. My 2023 Easter decorating was even delayed—an unthinkable inconvenience for a Southern lady who feels obligated to decorate for every single cotton-pickin’ holiday. After years of painfully avoiding treatment, something had to be done.
The inevitable surgery was no day in the park, and the doctor addressed a bone spur, torn ligaments, and other wayward parts that required skilled repair.
Bless his heart, it was a grueling experience. On the first night, he slept upright in a chair while I camped out on the sofa to dispense medications and fluff pillows. By morning, he felt much better, but I was left with a hitch in my get-along from my makeshift bed.

The next night, while he slumbered peacefully, I was startled awake every hour by the hum of the medical ice machine that kept his shoulder cool. Naturally, since I was awake, I took it upon myself to adjust his blankets and pillow. Wives are just nice that way.
Two sleepless days after the surgery, we celebrated his birthday. When I explained that I hadn’t baked him a cake because I was “just a little tired,” he looked at me with eyes of surprise. “But I’m the one who had surgery,” he protested. Husbands are just clueless that way.
As we rolled into Christmas, my son helped haul decorations down from the attic, but I still ended up carrying far more than usual. I began to appreciate Bob’s helpful and strong back that keeps the house running smoothly. His skillful kitchen cleaning was sorely missed during the holiday mess.
Besides an unfortunate run-in with a table saw that required a few finger stitches, he’s never had an injury or illness other than a cold. This new experience with a hospital and the dry aftertaste of anesthesia has seemed to bring him a new appreciation for me, the woman who gave birth to his two children and has endured my share of hospitalizations. It’s not easy being delicate, but he now understands me a bit better.

My own respect for him has deepened as well. He’s been the one to do the heavy lifting, both literally and figuratively, all these years. He just might get that birthday cake after all—albeit a few months late. Perhaps a postponed party is the latest status symbol of true love.
Thanks to those who have signed up for the newsletter alerts (top of page). Those readers are able to see a few extra things each week like recipes, photos and news about book signings. To read a really nice story about my latest book on the Scenic 98 Coastal site, click Here.
I am so sorry to read of your husband’s surgery. I hope he is feeling better. I am happy he now has a new appreciation for you. It sounds like you were the perfect caregiver!
Thanks Pam. I don’t know about perfect, but I did what I could to eliminate angst.
I hope your husband’s shoulder is fully healed and he is able to do more without issues. Being a caregiver for a husband is definitely not a walk in the park. Thinking of you!
Thanks so much Robin – it’s a new chapter for sure!
Happy healing to Bob. Hope he gets back to full power soon. The hero part of the story is a sweet beginning for you two ♥️
We must take care of our heroes, and you have a good one yourself!
I totally understand what you went through. My husband has had both a rotator cuff surgery and a knee replacement, and let me tell you, it’s like having a 10-year-old little boy again! They demand so much attention and want to be waited on hand and foot. It’s funny how they can go from being strong, independent adults to needing constant care and pampering. I hope your husband has made a full recovery! Hang in there, you’re not alone in this!
So glad you understand. It’s a shift in power for sure. The best part is that I think if I’m ever sick again, I’ll have better care. – fingers crossed!
Leslie Anne, I am so sorry about Bob’s surgery. Been there, done that 3 times!! And as a skinny kid myself, I had a run in with a dodgeball in the 6th grade…hit right in the face at recess and knocked out cold. The next thing I remember is the principal leaning over me! I really appreciate everything you said. Maybe John didn’t hop to it fast enough to fix my sweet tea after my recent back surgery, but he learned to give me an IV every day for 6 weeks after another surgery. And last week he saved me when I was screaming hysterically because we had a possum in the garage! (that poor little possum was probably more freaked out than I was!). And for the record, I consider my polite request for a glass of sweet tea to be an emergency declaration!!!
Oh dear, that dodgeball story gives me the chills. Why they allowed big giant boys to throw balls at little girls is beyond me. Bob would pass out if he had to give me an IV, so John gets top nursing points for that. As for the possum, – good grief! What a gem he is to protect you from wild (possibly rabid – I always think) animals. He’s a keeper! Even if the tea is slow in arriving.
David had two shoulder surgeries and eventually one shoulder replacement. Our ice maker couldn’t keep up, so I was constantly running to the store for ice. Don’t get me started on his knees. One of the blessings of an aging marriage is the role of caretaker. We take turns.
We’re blessed to have each other in marriage, aren’t we? This was the first time Bob took a turn as the patient, so it was an adjustment for both of us. Poor David. The new ice machine is a game changer.
Carrying stuff down from the attic is one thing… but unable to carry his bride’s shopping bags?? Unforgivable!! Hopefully, he will be better than ever and will be able to double the weight he used to carry. Have a wonderful week, Leslie Anne and it’s never too early to start his therapy sessions at the mall.xx