That’s the name of the game.

“A compromise is an agreement where opposing sides give up some of what they want to find a solution that everyone can accept, settling a dispute through mutual concessions rather than continuing conflict. It’s about “meeting in the middle” to reach a workable outcome, even if it’s not exactly what any single party initially desired.” Thanks AI.

I finally got my shoulder surgery this past Tuesday. I needed it so bad. I was in a lot of pain. I wish I could say the pain I’m in now is just part of the surgery healing process, but apparently I am in the percentage of people who are seriously affected by the intubation tube they put in during surgery. My shoulder doesn’t hurt at all. It’s bruised all to hell and I’m diligently wearing my big, bulky sling, but it doesn’t hurt. Trying to get good sleep is annoying but I know that will work itself out here in the next couple weeks when I can sleep in my bed again. The issue is my throat. It honestly feels like strep and covid all mangled together on the right side of my throat. No pain reliever has been able to touch it. I’m so over it! Four solid days of constant pain and no voice, at all. I’m relegated to texting my needs to whoever will “listen.” I have faith that this too shall pass, it’s just incredibly painful to swallow right now and swallowing is pretty important!

So, even all these years later, there’s strange little reminders of my past with Blue Eyes and the compromises made. When we were at check in this past week before my surgery, Blue Eyes was with me. It was a Tuesday morning and had been on the calendar for 6 weeks. Blue Eyes swore up and down that his ONLY priority that day, all day, would be me. Well wouldn’t you know it, but somehow, important clients just happened to be in town that day. Now, leading up to my surgery, Blue Eyes had been a frenetic crazy person. Typical. It’s always about him. His needs. His anxiety. His fear. I actually was not worried about surgery at all. I just needed my shoulder pain to be fixed already. I had been dealing with it in some form or another for a YEAR!!!

The morning had been a stressful one for me as my incredibly weak 85 1/2 year old step father had taken a brutal fall at about 8am and had been rushed to the hospital while my mother with dementia and their 13 year old doodle were left in the reception area of their retirement home to fend for themselves. Of course I am their first call, but I was in the shower. My step brother was unavailable, and my sister was literally at a doc appointment at the time. I was 2 hours from surgery and this time, I could not step in. Someone else would have to. My sister did. Despite all her issues, when someone needs her, she usually rises to the occasion. She rushed over after her doc appointment and took over. Dad has 4 broken ribs and a broken right hand. He’s now at a rehabilitation center and my sister is taking care of everything else. I’ve promised her a trip to Hawaii. Sometimes bribery works.

So the receptionist checking me in on Tuesday is asking who will be available to drive me home and take care of me post surgery. Thank goodness for arthroscopic outpatient surgery! I hate hospitals! And Blue Eyes’ answer is… “well, it will be me, or I will never hear the end of it.” Honestly, in that moment, I could have cried. If I hadn’t spent so much time healing myself from his bullshit, I probably would have. I knew he was speaking specifically to that time, pre discovery, when I had a lump in my breast and he was too busy with his addiction to take me to my appointment, or to even care.

I had the receptionist put my son’s name on the list. He had wanted to be the one to bring me home anyway. As it turns out, when I was out of surgery but still half delirious, the surgeon let me know that they had called my husband but he didn’t answer. Classic. I asked if they had called my son and the surgeon had no idea, so I just said never mind. He showed me some strange blurry pictures and said I did not have a rotator cuff tear. I could have literally done a back flip of joy, if I hadn’t just gotten out of surgery, and oh yeah, if I had ever actually been able to do a back flip. He removed the large calcium deposit from my shoulder tendon and promised me a speedy recovery… if only he had realized the intubation tube had done such severe damage, he might not have been so chipper.

So it turns out both Blue Eyes and The Peacemaker were there to take me home, in separate cars. Hmmm. I chose The Peacemaker as he is by far the better driver. That let Blue Eyes off the hook and he was able to, you guessed it, go into work to meet with the clients and have dinner with them and get home late into the evening. If I EVER thought having our adult son living with us was a burden, I for sure now know it is a blessing.

Blue Eyes worked a full week, per usual, but two days he did make me breakfast before running out the door. Yesterday he left early and returned home late. If not for the severe pain, I wouldn’t have cared, but I was waiting for him to bring me home some potential relief from the drug store.

I do remember the time he had hip surgery, and I doted on him 24/7 for 2 weeks like a frickin’ nurse even though he had somewhat recently turned my life and my emotional (and physical) well being upside down. We are very different people. We respond very differently to the needs of others. Some people have the caregiver gene, some don’t.

Blue Eyes just made me a pancake breakfast, not because he wanted to, but because I asked for them. They were delicious!!! Happy Valentine’s Day, again.