Mr. Fix It
Men are fixers … if something is wrong, they automatically want to fix it. My husband is Mr. Fit It himself! If there ever was anyone on the face of the earth that wanted to fix something … it’s HIM!
My husband was a nervous wreck pacing the floors of the hospital as he waited with my two daughters, my daughter’s boyfriend, and my father. He has a lot of nervous energy anyway, but this was way worse than that. My daughter told me how antsy he was as they all waited together for news on how I was doing during the three-hour surgery.
Two weeks later, my husband took me back to the doctor due to a complication I was having. The result was a second surgery, and my poor husband sat in the waiting room alone this time. It was a last-minute decision to go back to surgery upon two failed attempts to resolve the bleeding with in-office procedures. My heart went out to him as I knew he’d be a mess as he waited alone. My daughter offered to come, but it was an hour and 15 minute drive. The doctor wanted to take me back immediately.
Ten days later, I came down with the flu! I’m telling you, at that time, it seemed like this sista could NOT catch a break! My husband was so worried about me; checking my temperature, writing the results down in a notebook to keep track, and making sure I had my Tamiflu every 12 hours on the dot. When I started throwing up the second day, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me as I hugged the trash can in front of me. I was so miserable at that time, I did not care about being graceful. At all. Period. I mean, how can you really be graceful emptying your stomach and then dry heaving? How’s that for a visual? Later, he apologized if I felt as if I was on display, but he said he felt so helpless and wanted so badly to help me.
Now that all of that is behind me, my husband approached me last week with an idea.
“Shirley, you’ve been through hell. I mean you really have.”
“Yeah …”
“I want to do something for you.”
“Awe, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to,” I responded, thinking he wanted to make me breakfast or something like that.
“I want to buy you a new vehicle.”
I stopped in my tracks as I paused for a moment, then said, “That is really sweet, but … “
He continued, “No, hear me out. I couldn’t do anything to fix what you were going through. All I could do was sit and watch you as you suffered. If you’d let me, I’d like to buy you a new vehicle since you are just now able to drive again.”
As you can imagine, I was so surprised!
It was such a sweet gesture, but I have never been a materialistic person. I appreciated his offer so much, though.
He asked if I would at least look at a few new vehicles to see if I’d like to have one. So, I went with him and found my dream vehicle – but honestly, I could take it or leave it. After he insisted multiple times, I took it!
~smile~
And I made Mr. Fix It feel much better!
He truly does feel as if he has helped in my recovery, and I’ve humored him by telling him that I suddenly feel MUCH better! ~wink~
PS It’s a burgundy Tahoe. ~squeal~