Slow Love

Heart to Heart

When we got inside the apartment, after returning to Paisley and getting settled back into home we are going to take a bath before going to bed. I notice him limping a little as we go into the bathroom. I ask him, "Sweetheart you are limping. Are you alright?" He snaps at me he's just fine, that the cold and sitting on the ground got to him. I looked concerned at him and said, "I don't think it was necessary for you to snap at me like that." He huffs opening  the medicine cabinet and takes a pill out of a vitamin bottle. I ask him, "What are you taking, that's not Aleve." He says to me, in that deep voice, that it is none of my concern. I go, "Excuse me! I am your wife and your well being is most certainly my concern." I get right in front of him face to face. "Did you go to the Dr like you promised me you would?" His eyes got dark and fierce looking at me. I took my hands and cupped his face, "Sweetheart, you need to tell me what is going on with all this. I have a feeling it is worse than you are letting on." He shoves my hands down and backs away from me. He knows I will not back down, I will take him on. He also knows he is risking me walking out the door if he fights with me. Spinning around I get the bottle out of the medicine cabinet, examining the pills and they are Vicodin. He stalks off into the bedroom with me hot on his heels. I follow him and say, "So, are you going to come clean with me on this or not?" I have to say that the sight of a furious, fit to be tied, naked man on the other side of the bed is quite the picture here. He is on the verge of one of his famous hissy fit and I'm ready. I am standing across the bed from him and I say, "Go ahead, blow your top. Do or say whatever you need to do and get it out of your system. I am not leaving and you are going to have to answer my questions sooner or later. So do whatcha you gotta do?" He knows he's been caught red handed and has to decide what to do, knowing full well that his actions will cause an immediate and opposite reaction that he won't like. Contemplating what to do next, as I stand my ground on the other side of the bed, he comes slithering across toward me with those come hither eyes and I back up saying, "Huh, uh. Not this time. You need to talk to me and this ploy is not going to get you out of it. Put some pants on and meet me out in the living room." I get to the sofa and he is trying to grab me from behind as we fall on the sofa. His hands are all over me and he's trying to kiss me into oblivion. I finally get a hold of his hands and say, "Stop. You need to tell me what's going on with you." He looks down and away from me as I take his hands and gently squeeze them, "Sweetheart, you need to come clean on this and talk to me. I love you and need to know." He finally looks at me with those beautiful eyes and still won't utter a word. Softly, in my sultry southern voice, with concern, "Sweetheart, I love you but I know this is more serious than just a little arthritis for you to be taking Vicodin. Please, talk to me." He takes a deep sigh and finally tells me at almost a hush, "I probably need my other hip replaced. I don't want to go through that again." Questioning, "Have you been to the Dr to find out?" He shook his head no. I asked, "Will you go to the Dr before we leave on Wednesday to see if that is what it is?" He said he would and I expressed I wanted to go with him, but he emphatically said 'NO, I'll take care of it.' Looking at him with deep concern, "You cannot go on living on these powerful drugs like this. A body cannot take that for prolonged periods of time. It will break you down. I already lost one husband from that and I do not want to lose another one." His eyes widen in shock and quips, "I thought he died of a heart attack." I reply, "That was the official cause of death but it was from prolonged use of opiate pain drugs that damaged his heart and masked heart problems until he had a massive heart attack that killed him. He had spinal stenosis and refused to have back surgery to fix it, so instead he took more and more, stronger pain medication for over 20 years until it finally killed him.[My voice is cracking and tears are starting to flow down my face] Sweetheart, I cannot and will not go through that again. Please get this fixed so you don't have to live on those drugs or with pain. That is no way to live and I want to love you and be with you for years and years." By this time, I could not control my emotions any longer and I just caved into his chest. Holding me tightly, he promised me he would go to the Dr. before we leave to go to the house in the Caribbean. He was reticent, I have to believe he will follow through. He gets up, pulling me into a loving embrace telling me he will take care of it as we go back into the bedroom.