Today my husband, Daniel, drove me in for my treatment. While I love to have the time with him, there is always a bit of trepidation about these trips.
You see, I actually like to go alone to my appointments. I feel independent and free to do whatever I need to do. I can chat with people or be completely quiet and alone. If I’m tired I can just sit and nap. I can be very focused on dealing with whatever that day brings.
When you bring someone, all of a sudden you have a guest that needs looking after. I know, they are there to support me, but the reality is that my “support” person, can’t stand waiting around hospital waiting rooms. He is not as used to the waiting as I am. He wants to be outside. He gets fidgety, which drives me crazy.
We do have our strategies. Daniel goes for walks during the long wait times. If it’s a tired day and I need the elevator, he takes the stairs. He paces around the long hallways observing the people there. It works out okay.
Once I’m out of the hospital I’m a different person. I don’t have that same need to be alone and focused. I feel more social and more able to think beyond my own needs. Having Daniel there now seems festive. It seems that I’m only curmudgeonly in the hospital.