The power of love
Why I Often Kick My Husband Out of Bed
And continue on with my day
I’ve kicked my husband out of bed several times in the last few years.
I’m not referring to making him sleep in the other room or on the couch because of some disagreement.
No, I’ve literally pushed him onto the floor. He is confined to a wheelchair due to a brain tumor and often has trouble getting out of bed. In those instances, he asks for my assistance.
The first push happened while we were on vacation. When he asked for help, I, of course, complied. Not realizing my strength, I reached over and casually shoved his back. Obviously, not casual enough.
There he was on the floor. And there he remained until morning when his brother helped lift him back into his wheelchair.
The second shove happened at three in the morning. I’m a light sleeper, but obviously not a light pusher. I heard him rustling around, trying to sit up. I reached over, placed my hands on his back and within seconds he was on the floor.
Again? He tried to sound angry. But in the end our laughter won out. After all, I’m a featherweight to his heavyweight status.
And then there was the time I moved the bed while he was using it to steady himself. And yep, you guessed it.
The truth is, he doesn’t always need my help to hit the floor. His right leg often gives out and he folds onto the surface beneath his feet.
Every time he falls, I make him as comfortable as possible on a hard wood floor, call 911, and go about my business.
If ‘the fall’ occurs in the morning, I greet the paramedics in my pajamas, carrying a cup of coffee. If it happens in the evening, I often have a glass of wine in my hand, and rush inside from bar-b-queing to let them in.
Hey, with the price of food these days, one can’t let a good filet mignon get well done.
We call the paramedics so often, they know the names of our dogs, that my mother has dementia, the ages of our grandchildren, our sleeping habits, laundry day, and the thread count of our sheets.
All kidding aside, these guys are the absolute best. And handsome. Still my beating heart. I only wish I were a bit younger. Okay, a lot younger. And single.
But even at this age I wouldn’t kick any of them out of bed.
Thanks for reading.
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