One of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis, once divided love into four categories: affection, friendship, eros and charity. Of the four, he found the least natural yet the most admirable to be friendship. Today’s entry pertains to the miracle of friends, and to that end, relates details surrounding the Gallbladder of Doom.
Nearly two years ago, Herself had her gallbladder removed on a very quick basis. (She knew surgery was imminent when the first words out of the surgeon’s mouth in his office were not, “Hello, I’m Dr. So-and-so,” but rather, “How did your gallbladder get SO BAD?”). It was one of life’s mercifully few nadir moments. The primary difficulty, though, was not the run-through-with-a-hot-poker-type pain, nor the operation and recovery; rather, it was something much more elemental, and much more problematic to resolve.
Herself had only a short amount of time to go home, prepare herself, and return to the hospital for a 5 PM Curtain Call. Her instructions for her Beloved were to pick up the children from school – first priority is always the needs of the Offspring – and he was unable to arrive at the hospital before the appointed time. She telephoned her parents, and e-mailed her colleagues at work and her internet friends. And that was that. She was without any company at the hospital, save that of the pre-op nurses, for a couple of hours before being wheeled in for surgery.
Herself has historically been quite solitary. For myriad reasons, she had not formed any local friendships. She was mostly content with this state of affairs, until those long, long minutes of waiting by herself, in pain, desolate and forlorn.
The horror of being so very alone still haunts her.
Afterwards, as she spent the majority of her recovery without adult company while her Beloved was at work, she recognized that responsibility for those terrible moments and for her present situation rested solely on her shoulders, and that, as frightening as it might be, it was time to find some local friends.
Fast-forward nearly two years to the present time. Once more, Herself was scheduled for surgery. There were a few noteworthy differences this time around, though. Everything was planned in advance. Her parents had arranged to be in town to help care for the Offspring. Her Beloved was present throughout the difficult pre-op waiting. And most of all, wondrously, miraculously, Herself had found friends to help her through.
One friend kept her company via text message during many irritating moments, both before and after the surgery. Another stopped by the hospital to bestow good cheer and provided very sage and welcome advice about recovery. A third provided vital DVDs and a good book for distraction, which proved even more invaluable when her slight complications set in. They, and others in the tae kwon do family, provided hugs, encouragement and well wishes before the procedure as well as afterward. Even though her Beloved needed to work long hours, Herself still had good company. They made her laugh, and it was healing laughter. And she was never lonely.
She has a deep, visceral gratitude for the presence of these people in her life. She is also appreciative of them on behalf of Her Beloved, as they have relieved him of the unjust and impossible burden of being Herself’s sole adult companionship. They have enriched her world enormously, and made it a brighter place.
She hopes they know that she would do anything in her power to ensure that they never experience the isolation she once did. She would move Heaven and Earth to bring them happiness, if she could. They are kind to her. They bring her so much joy. They are her friends.
“A friend is one with whom you are comfortable, to whom you are loyal, through whom you are blessed, and for whom you are grateful.” – William Arthur Ward
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