Surgery and a broken frig: Complications ensue

Long Suffering Spouse had surgery only last week. Sent home after only 36 hours, she discontinued the really heavy-duty pain medicine only a few days later because she needed to resume her duties as chauffeur.

She's under doctors' orders not to lift anything over 10 lbs. and to limit bending or stooping -- even sweeping and vacuuming are expressly verboten.

It's making her crazy.

She has so much to do, she says, and she can do so little. It's frustrating.

But -- other than that -- she's doing fine. Really. It's only my opinion, but I think she's recovering better and faster than she did last December when she had her gallbladder removed.

Older Daughter was home visiting last week from Champaign -- on a break from nursing school -- but her trip did not become a classic busman's holiday.

Older Daughter arrived before Long Suffering Spouse went into the hospital. Long Suffering Spouse returned home on Wednesday evening and Older Daughter had to go back Downstate on Sunday. It's not that Older Daughter had no opportunity to try out her budding skills as a nurse... but she was most helpful getting her youngest sibling to and from his events and in keeping the dishes from piling up to the ceiling.

Sure, the first couple of days back were rough for Long Suffering Spouse, but she was determined to get back doing something, her limitations notwithstanding, as soon as possible. By Saturday afternoon, Long Suffering Spouse and I were in the stands for Youngest Son's ballgame. No, she couldn't do much... but she could watch. (It's funny -- I think she was genuinely surprised that so passive an 'activity' could be so tiring for one just out of surgery... even after she saw me going through this last year.)

Fast forward to Monday. Late Monday evening Younger Daughter told me that the refrigerator in the basement didn't seem to be cooling properly.

Yes, like a lot of big families we have a frig in the basement... for overflow stuff. It's pretty packed from just before Thanksgiving and through Christmas, and then again at Easter, but during most of the year it just has to keep the spare loaves of bread or the extra gallon of milk. And also stuff that isn't needed right away or maybe ever. Such as Oldest Son's beer from... when? A year ago? He moved out a year ago... so maybe longer than that.

The freezer in the basement frig tends to be more crowded all year round: Market Day meat or veggies, frozen pizzas for emergencies, a turkey carcass for eventual soup stock.... You have the picture.

But on Monday the basement frig was bursting at the seams. As you might expect, Long Suffering Spouse had planned for her recuperation by laying in abundant supplies and preparing as far in advance as possible. She tried to explain that to her own mother... but failed utterly: Abuela had reacted to her daughter's hospital confinement by cooking. And cooking. And cooking. Not everything was actually edible... but all of it took up space. Lots of space.

We had moved that frig from the old house... and it wasn't new then. And now, on Monday, Youngest Daughter was telling me that it wasn't keeping very cool. "I didn't tell Mom," she told me. "I didn't want to bother her."

Tuesday morning I had occasion to inspect for myself. Long Suffering Spouse sent me down for a loaf of bread. It wasn't particularly cold.

Despite Younger Daughter's advice, I told Long Suffering Spouse. Do I look stupid?

Inspection quickly proved that the frig wasn't particularly cold because, in technical terms, it was busted. Meanwhile, Younger Daughter had departed for a two day college orientation, Middle Son had gone to work, and Long Suffering Spouse insisted on letting Youngest Son sleep. So she emptied the frig -- a task that, I am almost certain, involved more bending and stretching than her doctors would have liked -- while I went into the garage and attic for coolers and off to the store for ice. Long Suffering Spouse culled mercilessly, but she still filled a large bag of stuff she wanted Abuela to take back to her house and put in her freezer.

That took awhile. A widow, Abuela lives alone; nevertheless, at least since the promised Armageddon of the Year 2000, Abuela's giant freezer is always full to bursting. Some of the food in there has, no doubt, been there since the year 2000... and some may be older than that.

I think it was late Tuesday afternoon when the repairman showed up to deliver his verdict: The refrigerator could be repaired... but parts for the nearly 20-year old machine are hard to come by. In a week or so, the parts could be found, probably, and these could be installed within a day or two thereafter... and it would cost only slightly more than a new frig.

So Long Suffering Spouse went out yesterday morning and bought a new frig. It is expected some time this afternoon.

And it occurred to me how much of a hassle this would have been under ordinary circumstances -- even if Long Suffering Spouse weren't mending after surgery.

And then the phone rang this morning shortly after Middle Son had left for work. It was Middle Son. He'd been rear-ended. He'd been thrown around a bit in the collision... but he seemed fine when I caught up with him at the police station. And our car fared pretty well, all things considered, given the force of the impact.

And I can't explain how busy it is at work right now. Not when I've taken this much time explaining all this.