Sixty's Surgery: Part 2

They had him pumped full of morphine, so he was saying some hilarious things.

His mother and I were talking, when all of a sudden, Sixty woke up and said, "There aren't any pythons in Spain!"

I had to turn away from him so he wouldn't see that I was laughing. I think I might have peed my pants in the process.

After Sixty was coherent enough to carry on a conversation with us, he said he was up for some ice chips. The nurse had set a cup of ice next to his bed. I reached for it and started spooning them into his mouth.

I couldn't believe that his mother was letting me do this. You know? Mothers and their boys? That relationship is tight, people. And she was letting me encroach upon her territory. I thought that was awfully sweet.

Later on, his lunch came, and he wanted some of the jello. He took the bowl and spoon, scooped up a strawberry square, raised it to his mouth, and just stared at it as it shook on the spoon. Bless his heart. He was so doped up that it was taking every bit of concentration he had to get it into his mouth.

I took the bowl and spoon away from him and proceeded to feed him. He just looked so helpless and kept saying "Thank you, Sandra." He grimaced after every bite, but he never once complained about the pain.

He ate almost everything on the tray, and then he was ready for more pain medicine. Off to sleep he went, and his mother and I did some more talking. She is so sweet. I really enjoyed getting to know her better.

Sixty woke up every now and then to join us in our conversation, but mostly slept the entire afternoon. Dinnertime rolled around, again I fed him, and again he never complained. Afterward, Sixty felt like he wanted to get up and walk around. So we unplugged his machines and sauntered around the hallway with him.

Halfway around the halls, he asked what we had done that afternoon. "We got to know each other better," I said, smiling. "Well that's good. But at least I got to talk with you, too. I mean, it's not like I slept the whole day." She and I howled. He had, in fact, slept the entire afternoon - and he didn't even remember it. Bless it.

Visiting hours had came to an end, and his mother got her things to leave. She was staying the night at Sixty's house and would come in the morning to get him when he was discharged. She would be taking him back to Sixty's hometown with her. He kissed her goodbye, and I got up to get my things, too. I waved goodbye to her, telling her how much I enjoyed our day together. She said she did, too.

She was out the door, and I asked Sixty if he wanted me to leave, too. "No," he said. "I want you to myself for a little bit." I laid down on the bed with him and watched tv while we snuggled. Poor kid. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of not getting to see me for a whole week while he was at home with his mom. "It won't be that bad," I said. I think I was convincing myself more than anyone.

11:30 rolled around, and the nurse brought in his pain medicine for the night. I watched him take it, and then said that I should be going. I kissed him goodnight.

"Do you know how special you are?" he said. I melted. "I really enjoyed you taking care of me, and I don't normally like people taking care of me. Do you know how special you are?"

"Thanks," I said. "You're a special guy, hunnie. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," he said. "See ya."

"Yeah. See ya."

I fought back tears. I have to remind myself that it's only been two months. But after everything I went through that day with him, it felt weird not saying those three words.

I know it in my heart, friends. And right now, for me, that's all that counts.