The Classic Struggle

Myrtle plotted her actions carefully to make the best use of her time once she left the hospital. She’d go the grocery store that was open late, and take the groceries directly to Fred’s apartment before going home. And she’d pack the car with Fred’s things that were still at her place before going to bed. She wanted to get back to Fred’s place early to make sure she didn’t miss any deliveries, although, as she well knew, even though these stores always said deliveries could arrive anytime after 8 a.m., chances were she wouldn’t see anyone till the afternoon.

But that was all right, she thought. She’d count on spending the morning making things like tuna casserole and lasagna, which she’d then divide into freezer containers and put either in the freezer or the fridge for Fred. Freezer containers, she thought. She must remember to buy some of those too.

Her mind so occupied, she sat with Fred while he slurped his broth and ate his jello. Then she gently reminded him that she wouldn’t be able to visit right after his surgery, because of waiting at his apartment for his furnishings to be delivered.

“As soon as everything is there though, Fred, I’ll come right over to see how you are,” she assured him.

“Ok,” said Fred. It seemed the sedative was wearing off. He looked at Myrtle with a quizzical expression. Just as Myrtle had never seen Fred before with no collar, this was the first time he’d noticed that Myrtle had two eyes. She looked funny.

“What is it?” asked Myrtle.

Fred sort of pointed, then let his hand drop on the bed. “You have two eyes,” he smiled.

Myrtle giggled. “The other one has been there the whole time, Fred,” she smiled. “I still cover it sometimes, but I’m supposed to get used to using it again, and it is much easier to drive without the patch.”

Fred was torn. Myrtle was kind of prettier without the eye patch, yet he’d found the patch kind of a turn-on. Just then another nurse came in, inserted a needle into his IV, then smiling, retreated. After that, Fred began to sort of drift, his mood very happy indeed. And he began to get sleepy.

Myrtle decided that was her cue to leave. She had a lot to do, she had a plan, and she very much wanted to get started. She gave Fred’s hand a squeeze, which roused him just a little. Then she leaned over and gave him a kiss, fluffing his pillow again. “I’m going to go, Fred,” she said softly.

“Hmmmm..” he replied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, if not sooner,” she assured him.

“Hmmmm,” he said again.

Myrtle just chuckled softly, kissed him on the cheek again, and tiptoed out of the room.

Once out of the hospital, she switched into high gear, driving to the grocery store to pick up everything she needed to get Fred’s meals ready and feed herself while she waited for the delivery people. It was after midnight by the time she was home and ready for bed. But the groceries were in Fred’s fridge, the linens and other things were in his car just outside, she was showered and her clothes were even laid out for the morning. Myrtle set her alarm and finally relaxed in her bed.

Friday morning went pretty much as planned for them both. A groggy Fred was wheeled into the OR, and an almost equally groggy Myrtle, take-out coffee in hand, got to Fred’s apartment before 8, went back to the car for parcels, then got to work. She would have liked to relax a bit with her coffee, but she forgot to bring a chair, so she just went right to the kitchen and pondered what to work on first.

Of course, before she could cook, the dishes, pots, pans and cutlery had to be put away, most of them needing to be washed first. Then she got cooking. A casserole in the oven, she went to work unpacking some of Fred’s linens, at least the ones that went into the linen cupboard in the bathroom. She’d have to wait to unpack some other things until the furniture arrived, but happily, the table and chairs arrived at around 11 a.m., just about when Myrtle was thinking that sitting on a cushion on the floor wasn’t really so bad.

In fact, by 3:30 Friday afternoon, food was made and put away, canned goods, such as beans, tuna and salmon, soups, ravioli and stews were in a kitchen cupboard, dishes and most kitchen utensils had a home, the bed was set up, along with the dresser, bedside table and lamp, and the living room furniture was all in place. The delivery men had been a little surly about placing the couch, but Myrtle was firm about where it was to go and they had put it there. And the first thing to arrive, the dining set, was deemed comfortable by Myrtle. So she was satisfied with the day and also quite exhausted. But she knew Fred would be looking for her. Everything else, such as making up the bed, buying and hanging curtains, and placing things like books, some utensils and such, would have to wait for the weekend.

When Myrtle entered Fred’s hospital room, she saw a large woman bending over him. She must have been tired, because she should have recognized Flora from behind, she thought, as Flora looked up toward her.

“How is he?” asked Myrtle.

Flora face went red again. “A lot you care!” she said. “He’s been in and out and quite distressed!”

“Of course I care,” said Myrtle testily. “Why would you even say such a thing?”

“WELL, YOU HAVEN’T BEEN HERE!” declared Flora.

“Of course I haven’t,” said Myrtle evenly, going to the other side of Fred’s bed to check on him for herself. Fred glanced quickly at her, then closed his eyes again. She got it. Fred was playing possum and the source of his distress was obvious. She wondered how long Flora had been there, lurking over him this way. “I’ve been at Fred’s apartment waiting for his furnishings. Fred knew this.” She gave Flora a scathing look, lowered the side rail of the hospital bed, and placed her hand gently on his forehead. Then she leaned over and gave him a peck on his cheekbone. Fred moaned. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and a little smile appeared on his face.