Salsa and Speedbumps

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  * * *

  Later that evening, after visiting longer with her “in-loves” as they wanted to call themselves, Stephanie and Robbie were once again alone.

  “You should go home and sleep, Steph. You need to rest.” Robbie was back in bed, and pain was etched on his face.

  “And who will take care of you?” Stephanie was sitting in the recliner with her feet up right next to the bed.

  “I can call a nurse if I need anything.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “I want to be alone.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m testy and irritable because the pain is worse. I want to be alone. I don’t want to be taking it out on you. Go home.”

  Stephanie stood and turned to face the bed so she could search his face for a moment. “You want to abuse the night staff instead of your wife?”

  “I don’t want to abuse anyone.”

  “So you will lie here in pain and be noble about it.”

  Robbie let out some Spanish curses, and his hands clasped into white-knuckled fists.

  “Maybe I need to talk to the doctor about some more medication for you. Or we could try something different?”

  “No. I. Will. Be. Fine.” Robbie’s teeth were clenched and his eyes closed.

  “You are not fine. Look, we knew that this would happen by avoiding the narcotics, but…”

  “No buts. I’m not taking the narcotics.”

  “There might be something else we haven’t tried yet.”

  “Am I a guinea pig?”

  “No, but it’s only for a few days until the swelling goes down and your incision heals up.”

  “I thought you promised to help me.”

  “I did. You’re right. You want to be alone to wallow on your pity pot when help is offered. I guess I should honor that and leave you alone.” Stephanie went to grab her coat and purse and turned to her husband before leaving the room. “Good night, Robbie. I love you.” Stephanie walked away with a heavy heart and her mind full of prayers for Robbie in his pain.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  La ira es locura, el tiempo que dura.

  Anger is a short madness.

  ~Mexican proverb

  Robbie cursed, prayed, and tried to bring to mind Scripture as the darkness surrounded him. Pain rose like a palpable evil to torment him. Demons of addiction taunted him with the temptation of morphine or some other drugs to alleviate the pain. So many times, he was close to buzzing for the nurse. After some struggles, he let the call button hang down off the bed and out of reach. He couldn’t sleep. Why couldn’t I have just died? Wouldn’t that have been better for everyone? Depression wrapped around him, and his vision turned white as pain spasmed up his back. His lower back was not doing well with laying down in this uncomfortable bed. Finally, he grabbed the phone and dialed Alex’s number.

  “Hello?” The voice was slurred by sleep.

  “I’m sorry, Alex, I shouldn’t have called. Go back to sleep.”

  “Roberto? What’s up, dude? It’s the middle of the night. You wouldn’t have called unless you really needed help. Let’s have it.”

  “The pain is bad, about as bad as it was right after my accident. I was mean to Steph and sent her home. I’m all alone, and all I want is drugs. I know they would give them to me if I asked.”

  “Aren’t there other meds available? Maybe what you have right now isn’t the right one or the right dose.”

  “Now you sound like my wife.”

  “Smart woman, that wife of yours. Beautiful too. Perhaps you should listen to her.”

  “I called for support and now you are backing up my wife.”

  “You called. If you don’t want the truth you should go back to sitting on your pity pot.”

  “I’ve been attacked, beat up, almost died, had surgery, and am in excruciating pain and you don’t think I have the right to have a pity party?”

  “Whatever happened to your commitment to try to think of good things, whatever is good and noble and pure and lovely?”

  “Oh, shut up, Alex. Enough. I need to go.”

  “I’ll be praying for you, buddy.”

  * * *

  Robbie had a bad habit of swearing in Spanish when he was in pain. He did so now as he tried to fish for the call button. He finally got it and pushed it.

  “How can we help you?”

  “I’m in pain.”

  “Someone will be with you soon.”

  He waited an eternity before the nurse arrived.

  “I need something stronger. I can’t handle this.”

  “Do you have any idea what would work best for you, sir?”

  “Morphine.”

  The nurse glanced through the chart and gazed at Robbie. “I’m sorry, we cannot administer any narcotics to you. Doctor’s orders. We do have standing orders for some other meds we could try.”

  Robbie swore and told her to leave in a way that was anything but friendly.

  * * *

  Robbie watched his wife walk in.

  “Good morning!” she said in a cheerful voice.

  Robbie grunted in response. A nurse was in the room, checking his vitals. His parents had not arrived yet.

  “How did you sleep?” she asked.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Oh.”

  The nurse left.

  “Just leave. I am not fit for company.”

  “I’m not company. I’m your wife.”

  “Right now, it’s one and the same.”

  Stephanie removed her coat and dropped her purse on the floor next to the chair. She walked to the side of the bed to clasp Robbie’s hand, but he would not release his clenched fist.

  “The doctor warned the pain would be bad.” Her voice was low and soft.

  “I’ll be the first to remind you of that when you are in labor. I bet you won’t care what a doctor has told you at that point.”

  Robbie was unshaven. He felt dark and moody and out of control of his emotions. His breakfast was brought in, and he scowled at it, making no move to eat. He had no appetite for anything but a good narcotic.

  Stephanie reached over to brush the hair off his forehead, but his hand came up and grabbed her wrist tightly. “Don’t touch me.”

  She tried to take her hand back but he wouldn’t let go. “Robbie, you’re hurting me.”

  “I’m in too much pain to care.” He let go and dropped his arm and moaned. “Just leave.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “You will before much longer.” With a burst of energy he brought a hand up and dumped his breakfast on the floor.

  Stephanie didn’t even flinch. Inwardly, he was proud of her.

  “That was childish.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Stephanie moved around the bed and bent to pick up the breakfast and put the remains on the tray. She went to the bathroom to get paper towels to wipe up the coffee. She struggled to rise with the tray in hand and left. Robbie stared at the door, waiting for her to return. He hated the way he was treating her, but sparring with her distracted him from his agony. He glanced to her coat and purse in the chair. She had to come back for them. He was spoiling for more of a fight than she had given him. The clock ticked the minutes away. He waited, and his temper became even fouler.

  * * *

  Stephanie went to the nurse’s station to ask for someone to come and mop the floor. Unsure of what to do next, she went to the waiting room and sat. She had a nurse bring her coat and purse to her there. Her adrenaline was pumping from fear and was sure her blood pressure was high. She felt sick.

  Linda and Noel found her there when they arrived a short time later. She told them how Robbie was acting.

  “Noel, would you get a nurse to see if she can come and take Stephanie’s blood pressure?” Turning to Stephanie, she patted her knee. “You don’t look well, dear. My son can be a jerk when he’s in pain, but it is temporary. We need to take care of you.”

  Steph
anie started to cry, and Linda leaned forward to wrap her arms around her. Stephanie turned into her shoulder and let the tears fall. She felt helpless as a wife and was grateful she didn’t have to carry that burden alone.

  Noel returned with a nurse, and they found Stephanie’s blood pressure to be high. Linda insisted that her doctor be called and offered to drive Stephanie over to her doctor’s office right away. Stephanie had no energy to fight and agreed to go. Noel opted to stay at the hospital with his son.

  * * *

  Robbie watched his father walk into the dark room, and his eyes followed him as he came to the side of the bed. He had been left alone for over an hour.

  “Where’s Stephanie?” Robbie asked through gritted teeth and with narrowed eyes.

  “She left.”

  “She did?”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Robbie didn’t respond.

  “Son, I realize you are in pain, but that’s no excuse for being verbally abusive to your wife.”

  Robbie turned his head away. “I can’t help it when I hurt this bad.”

  “No. You can help it. You just don’t want to.”

  Silence hung in the air for a few minutes. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She is with your bride.”

  “Shopping for the baby? Stephanie’s on bedrest.”

  “No. They are not shopping. Your wife is going in to see her doctor.”

  “Why?”

  “Her blood pressure was too high.”

  Robbie groaned. “If you intended for me to feel like crap, you succeeded, Dad.”

  “I’m only here to serve, son. All I intended to do was speak the truth. You are going to be a father in the near future. You need to get over yourself so you can raise your son or daughter.”

  “I thought I was past all this.”

  “Satan hits us when we are at our weakest, and he will expose the chinks in our armor.”

  “So you think this is not just me being a jerk because I’m in pain, but that I’m under spiritual attack?”

  “You endured a physical attack that was evil. Luis is gone. That doesn’t mean, however, that you are home free from the demons you battle.”

  “I asked for morphine last night.”

  “We know.”

  “Stephanie knows?”

  Noel nodded. “She does. I don’t understand what you did to deserve a girl like her, son, but don’t go mucking it up and making her miserable. You will not find your mother and me supportive of that.”

  “I know. I need help.”

  “Well, let’s see what can be done to get you through this, huh? How about we start with some prayer?”

  “I don’t want to pray.”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t have the power to stop you.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Noel lay his hands gently on his son’s shoulder and bent his head to pray.

  * * *

  Linda followed Stephanie’s directions to the medical clinic in Menomonee Falls.

  “We live just down the road, several blocks from here,” Stephanie offered.

  “I would love to visit your apartment. Once Robbie’s on his feet, he will hopefully start planning on getting you a house, but I know that could take a few years, unless he has some savings.”

  “We have some.”

  “You seemed like a gal with a level head.”

  “Not level enough or I wouldn’t have gotten involved with Luis and found myself pregnant.”

  “We cannot undo the past. You have made some courageous choices, and for some reason, God brought you into our lives, and we count that as a blessing. Not all consequences need to be forever negative.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No. This child is not a mistake. God intended this baby for you and Robbie. Now how that all works with Luis and free will and all that, I don’t pretend to understand. But God created that child. Not you and Luis. God is knitting that baby together in your womb. You control none of it. The personality, the gifts, the way that child will impact the world—God has it under control. So let’s not stand in His way or call any of that a mistake.”

  “You extend me far more grace than I do myself.”

  “I had several miscarriages, and with each one, a part of me died. We adopted Robbie and later, his sister, Rebecca. Someone else’s ‘mistake’ became our biggest blessings. I am grateful God brought those children into being, and I’m honored that He allowed me to be their mother. God forgives you, Stephanie. Let it go and forgive yourself.”

  They arrived at the clinic, and Stephanie was examined by the doctor. Her wound was checked and found to be inflamed. Antibiotic ointment was applied, and Stephanie was given a prescription to help fight infection.

  “Stephanie, the baby is showing signs of distress. I am going to admit you to the hospital for observation. We need to get your blood pressure down and keep you and that baby healthy,” Dr. Hagelman insisted.

  Stephanie groaned. “My husband is in the hospital at Froedert. I need to be with him.”

  Linda intervened. “No. You need to do what is best for you and this child. Roberto will survive without you by his side. Noel and I are here to help.”

  Linda drove Stephanie to the hospital after stopping at the apartment to get some things for her to have in case her stay became an extended one.

  Stephanie was admitted to the maternity ward and settled into her room. Her head pounded, and she longed for relief, but the doctor was limited in the choices available. The baby was in position and Stephanie experienced contractions.

  “Mom, it’s too early. The baby can’t be born this soon.”

  “It can, honey. Trust God on this, and the doctors. I’ll stay with you.”

  * * *

  Tony went to Froedert to visit Roberto. It was after lunchtime, and Robbie’s food remained untouched.

  “Hey, Robbie. Should I have brought more tempting food from DeLuca’s?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “How are you?”

  “Horrible.”

  “Pain is bad?”

  “Yeah, but worse than that…” Robbie bit his lip and closed his eyes. “When Stephanie was here earlier, I was unpardonably mean. Now, she’s in the hospital in Menomonee Falls. The baby might come early.”

  “That’s tough. It would have killed me not to have been there for Ren when she gave birth. She had spent the last three weeks in the hospital on bed rest, and I almost didn’t make it when she went into labor. Some babies can come fast.”

  “Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. But you made it, and I bet you treated her better than I treated Stephanie.”

  “I expect so. Stephanie loves you and will forgive you. She understands you and your struggle with pain.”

  “She’d never seen me like that before.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. I hurt her, Tony.”

  “How soon you think you’ll be out of here?”

  “Another day or two if I have someone with me at home. My parents will stay so I won’t be alone.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Dad drove up to the hospital to see Steph.”

  “Did you send a peace offering?”

  “No. It would be more of a guilt offering.”

  “You seem to be doing better now.”

  “My dad talked me into trying some newer meds. I’m terrified because it’s not always known right away if one could become addicted.”

  “But they have helped with the pain?”

  “Yes. I can think clearer, which is a blessing and a curse.”

  “Robbie, you were choked, had major surgery, and you are going to be a father soon. You need to move on past this self-flagellation and start planning how you are going to recover so you can be there for Stephanie.”

  “I have no control over anything.”

  “Control is an illusion. God is in control, we just pretend we are.”

  “Good point.
So what do I do?”

  “Focus on getting well. Keep seeking God and make the most of this.”

  “Make the most of this?”

  “Yeah, nothing is wasted is it? Use your time to get stronger and pray for Stephanie. Dream, if you must, of what you will do to serve your wife and make her forget you were ever a jerk. You don’t deserve her love, but you have it anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Robbie. She never looked at Luis that way.”

  “How does she look at me?”

  “With longing, love, and like she wants to devour you.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Most men do.” Tony grinned. “Now just try to figure out what you can do to make sure that hurt look she might have parted from you with is replaced as quickly as possible by that other look.”

  “Flowers?”

  “Love notes work wonders. Especially since you can’t be together at the moment.”

  “I’m an attorney, not a romantic.”

  “She knows that. Just tell her what’s on your heart. Women love that kind of thing, even though it’s hard for us men to do. Writing it can be easier, sometimes, than saying it out loud.”

  “I guess that could be true. Do you think you could get me some paper, pen and envelope?”

  “Sure. I’ll go find them right now.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Házte cargo y da la cara.

  Face the music—take responsibility.

  ~Mexican proverb

  Renata came to visit Stephanie later in the day and handed her an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Tony brought it back when he left Froedert earlier. I guess we are your courier service.”

  “A letter?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, it’s from your husband.”

  “I’ll read it later.”

  “Why not now?”

  “I’m not very happy with Robbie right now.”

  “He almost died for you.”

  “I know, and then he treated me like crap.”

  “That’s a tough one.”

  “Been there?”

  “No, but sometimes I wonder if men go through premenstrual stress too.”

  Stephanie laughed. “You may be right. Robbie was in pain, though.”

  “Still no excuse to be mean to you.”