Wednesday, January 08, 2014

Coffee nurse

I'm not going to say I'm glad Leslie was not feeling well during her last few days of her last trip here.

I will say I'm not unhappy that we got to spend four days together without traveling into the outside world all that much. After all, one person's strep throat is another perfectly healthy person's excuse to spend 18 hours on the couch watching Law and Order marathons.

More importantly, it gave me the opportunity to take care of Leslie, and it also gave us a little sneak peek into what it will be like when we one day (hopefully, fingers crossed, not too long from now) get to live in the same place for more than a week or two. I mean, I know we will drive each other crazy at some point, because that is what happens to real people, and lord knows I can retreat into a silent ball of inactivity that would drive anyone crazy if they spend enough time with me. Experience, my friends, experience.

But the initial returns, as I suspected they would be, were positive. We were able to operate in each other's space without getting in each other's way. We were able to talk and share and also be fine if we weren't talking and sharing the whole time. Unfortunately, my kitchen is a no more than one person can cook at a time affair, but we were able to split those duties and time out things well enough that I think we're both looking forward to a time and place where we have more than two-square feet of counter space.

And yes, I got to take care of patient Leslie. It wasn't the first time, or even the 100th time, when I've been on her gently to slow down and not push herself, but this time I had the germs on my side. Or the virus. Whatever. It's been a long damn time since I took biology.

I like to take care of people, I like doing the small things for people I love, whether they are sick or not. I'm sure one of the highlights of the trip for Leslie was that I brought her coffee in bed every morning. To her, this was a gift on par with receiving frankincense, myrrh, and whatever the third thing was. For me, it was my morning routine with an extra 12 seconds taken out of my day to pour coffee into a second cup, but I loved how it made her light up in the morning. Well, maybe light up is not the proper description of Leslie first thing in the morning, but I could tell she was singing show tunes on the inside. Sleepy, sleepy, groggy show tunes.

For the actual not-feeling-well portion of the week, we spent the days traveling from couch to bed and back again and ran through about 60 episodes of CSI: New York and Law and Order: Criminal Intent. We decided that CSINY is basically an ol' timey radio show with pictures, since Forest Gump's sergeant and the big fat Greek wedding woman spend most of the show explaining what they are doing.

Guy: I am walking down the street carrying my gun and, oh look, there is someone else with a gun and now I am going to shoot him and then we will go back to the lab where will set a montage of people staring at computers to zippy dance music.

Woman: I am opening the window to let in some air and the city is outside and somewhere someone is committing a crime and now I am going to lift this cup of coffee to my lips and take a sip.

Eventually we settled on skewing toward Law and Order Criminal Intent, because it is always fun to watch Vincent D'onofrio act crazy, and there is a certain comfort in knowing that the person who did it is always going to be the third person who gets questioned. Formula equals good when you are dozing in and out of sleep on the couch.

During downtime between shows, or during shows (because frankly, they aren't too hard to follow) I would make tea, cook the few things I know how to make that don't have microwave directions on a box. The whole time, I spent as much time cuddled up to Leslie as I could, banking on the maximum cuddle time to save for the weeks when we won't be together.

Sometimes, most times, I feel like I can't do enough, that I can't provide all that someone needs. A lot of this is my own neurosis and issues. It may be shocking to realize, but the newspaper business isn't one where you are showered with gold and riches. Because I'm not always rolling in the Benjamins, I get sensitive to not being a good provider. I tend to try to show how I can provide for someone by doing, and Leslie gets that, and that she gets that and appreciates that makes me feel better and makes me want to curl up on the couch and watch every Law and Order ever made. And I think Dick Wolf has made enough to keep us going until we are at least 103.






3 Comments:

Blogger Leslie Breton said...

…Until we're 103…. yes, please. <3 I love you so much.

12:11 AM  
Blogger Jeanie Smith said...

Sweeeet! Keep that coffee comin', er, goin'-- whatever. I know how wonderful it is... :-)

6:13 PM  
Blogger threedresses said...

Beautifully written Adam.

10:22 AM  

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