Could all that affection be the anesthesia talking?

I remember when Joe and I had only been dating two weeks. Young love is so intoxicating, we were inseparable. During that time, we went bowling with a group of friends. There was bench seating and we were smashed up against each other with our arms wrapped tightly around.

When it was our turn, it took a while to get unwrapped so we could bowl. Then when our turn was over, we had to wrap back up.

Flash forward: Now that we’ve been married 48 years, that is not happening at all. With retirement, I’m always waiting for Joe to leave so I can have the house to myself. He does the same thing. Mostly affection these days is helping your spouse with the dishes or running an errand for them.

A few years ago, Joe developed a back issue. He dealt with it the best he could until we were sitting in the doctor’s office earlier this year and the doctor was explaining how minor surgery could help.

After explaining all the details, in a way us normal people could understand, like referring to the intervertebral discs and comparing the way they perform in the body to jelly donuts, the doctor concluded with, “It’s a no brainer.”

Well, it’s a “no brainer” for the doctor, he’s getting paid to do the surgery. The doctor’s going to walk out of the surgery center just fine, he’s not going to be shuffled to his car in a wheelchair. He’s not the one getting a two-inch incision in his spine and signing the paper that says you’re either going to be better, or worse or even die.

Joe was a little apprehensive about it, as anyone would be, but set up a surgery date. It rolled around faster than we thought and soon we were at the surgery center waiting for Joe to get called back.

When they came to get him, we just said goodbye. Should we have acted like we liked each other more? Some places they come get you to sit with the patient before surgery, so there’s more opportunity for pre-surgery affection but that did not happen here.

It was a relief when they called me back to sit with Joe after the surgery. I think they do that so you can help get your patient awake after having anesthesia and keep people moving through the surgery center.

Joe could barely keep his eyes open when I got back to the recovery room. Of course, I asked him how he was doing although I could tell by looking, he wasn’t at his best. Then I settled into the folding chair by the bed.

Pretty soon I hear “C’mere.” What? “C’mere.” I stood and moved to the bed with my hands on the rail. In his anesthesia induced semi-coma, Joe grabs my hands. He rolls his fingers over my hands and won’t let them go. Oh my, what is happening?

Just then a nurse comes in to check on him, and there we are, two old people, hand in hand, right back to our first two weeks of love. Joe wanted me to stay right there with him. After she leaves, Joe says, “G’me a kiss.” Now I know it’s the anesthesia talking.

On our way home, I learn that all the post-surgery affection has been wiped from Joe’s brain. He doesn’t remember any of it. He laughed when I told him about it and just like that we are back from young couple to old couple again. But if he does have to have any more surgery, I might be looking forward to it.