A Golf Widow’s Lament

My husband, Studly Doright, is a Golfer. Note the capital “g.” Normally he plays golf every Saturday and Sunday with an occasional Wednesday evening thrown in unless the weather doesn’t permit. And in Florida, the weather permits roughly 98% of the time.

When I was a younger woman I detested the many hours his golf habit kept him from home. I felt like every couple in the world was out strolling with clasped hands at farmers’ markets while Studly and I were separated by a chasm comprised of eighteen holes. I complained a lot. He ignored me.

Then one day about a decade ago I began to enjoy those times when he was on the course. I took myself places he wouldn’t enjoy like public gardens and parks, tea rooms and chick flicks. I went to local nurseries and learned about butterfly gardens. I roamed the aforementioned farmers’ markets and attended art exhibits. In short, I happily cultivated my interests.

Then eight weeks ago Studly had surgery to repair an extrusion of his sciatic nerve. He was in excruciating pain prior to surgery, but managed to play golf right up to the day they cut into him. Golf allowed him to focus on something other than the pain.

The weeks after the surgery have been tough. While his pain has lessened, he has jumpy nerves and restless legs that keep him from sleeping well and reminding him that he’s still recuperating. Worst of all, he won’t be cleared to play golf until the second week of August. That’s about to drive Studly, and me, nuts.

Perhaps if he felt better we might enjoy a few couples’ activities like I used to dream of us doing. But nowadays I really prefer doing things by myself. He’s my favorite guy, but he isn’t a farmers’ market aficionado. Still, if he was up for some outings, I’d gladly include him in my plans

Last evening Studly said in his saddest voice, “I’ve missed at least 16 rounds of golf, but who’s counting?” Broke my heart.

Maybe I can cajole him into going out for breakfast this morning, and we can browse through a motorcycle shop. That’s about as close to a farmers’ market as he’s going to get. Never thought I’d say this, but I am so ready to be a golf widow once again.

Peace, people.

How I Spent Saturday Morning

Studly Doright has successfully slept more than four hours at one time for the past three nights. Hopefully this indicates that his nerve endings might finally be settling down after his back surgery. He woke up practically jumping for joy this morning, and hurried me through my shower and breakfast so I could accompany him on his errands.

His first stop was at a golf shop. Studly hasn’t been released by his surgeon to swing a club yet, but he likes to look. Then we went to a motorcycle shop to buy new grips for a bike he’s working on for the grandkids to ride. Motorcycles are much more fun to look at than golf clubs.

Afterwards I mentioned that I could really use a new pair of sandals. When Studly is in a shopping mood it’s good to put in a request.

The cats like them. They might slightly resemble their scratching post.

Peace, people.

Farm to Table

Yesterday I felt like getting out of the house. Having been sick since May 2, I’d only made short trips for necessities, including two visits to convenient care medical facilities. I’m still not 100%, but if I ever want to get stronger I have to venture forth.

A Tallahassee neighborhood was having its community garage sale, so I drove to the east side of town and enjoyed the beautiful Florida weather while buying only a couple of items. Most of the merchandise on sale was baby related, and I have no need for strollers or play pens. Thank goodness.

I still had money in my pocket when I left the neighborhood, so I took myself to lunch at Backwoods Crossing, a farm to table restaurant. I’d driven past the place a couple of times before, but never at a meal time.

The interior of the restaurant is pleasant.

I was there early, so I had my pick of tables. The menu had lots of appetizing choices. Unfortunately, I’m limited in what I can eat right now. I settled on a grilled chicken breast with an apple glaze. It was tasty. I’d have loved to have the side of mashed sweet potatoes, but was afraid they’d have too much fiber for my delicate system. Never thought this hot salsa guzzling girl would have to settle for the bland side of things. Hopefully, this, too shall pass. No pun intended.

After my lunch I strolled into their outdoor seating area and garden. Much of the food they serve comes straight from this beautiful garden.

Items they don’t grow or raise directly on property are purchased from local farms. It’s a sweet setup.

I look forward to returning when my digestive issues are straightened out. Fingers crossed that happens soon! As for Studly Doright, he’s recovering from back surgery like a champ. He drove over and had lunch with his golf buddies today. It’ll be another three months before he can take the game up again, but he enjoyed swapping tales with his friends. Life is slowly getting back to normal.

Peace, people.

Studly’s Discovery

As regular readers of Praying for Eyebrowz know, my husband, Studly Doright, has been dealing with a painful sciatic nerve issue. For the past six weeks he has been hobbling around the house, a mere shadow of his normal gregarious self.

While he’s had some relief thanks to epidural injections of steroids and a mixture of medications, my poor Studly is still dealing with a great deal of pain and a severe lack of sleep. I’m in awe that he’s remained even-tempered throughout this ordeal. I’d have been throwing things and cursing a blue streak if our conditions were reversed.

But there have been some bright spots. Studly’s inability to sleep has led him to watch television at all hours of the day and night. That’s how he discovered and then introduced me to The Zoo on the Animal Planet network.

The Zoo is a behind the scenes look at the Bronx Zoo, and it’s an enthralling series. As I write this, a snow leopard named Leo is undergoing a root canal. I’ve also watched a pair of Bengal tigers attempt to mate and a rhinoceros get an ultrasound. I’ve become a huge fan.

My Studly, who isn’t into travel, actually thinks we need to visit the Bronx Zoo sometime in the near future. I’m not going to argue with him, but first we need to fix that sciatica. On that front, we’re probably looking at surgery. Ugh.

In the meantime, here’s a video from The Zoo.


Quick Studly Update

Our day at the pain management clinic yesterday didn’t go quite the way we planned. For those who aren’t regular followers of my blog, my husband, Studly Doright, has been battling severe sciatic pain for nearly a month now. He hasn’t been able to sleep and his appetite is out of whack. He’s not been a happy camper and to paraphrase a popular saying, if Studly ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.

He’d gotten to see a highly regarded neurosurgeon on Monday who recommended that Studly give the pain management route a try before resorting to the surgical option, and subsequently scheduled an appointment for Studly with his colleagues in that office. Both Studly and I thought that he’d be getting an injection at the pain management appointment on Wednesday morning.

Wrong. It was merely a consultation. I thought I might cry when the pain management doc said he’d be able to schedule an appointment for next week. But my Studly wasn’t going to be put off that easily. He asked what it would take to push the procedure through on that day.

It didn’t look promising. There were insurance pre-approvals to consider as well as scheduling issues. It seemed impossible, but Studly convinced them to try. Lo and behold the surgical center had a cancellation for that afternoon, leaving a spot open. But they still didn’t think the insurance pre-approval could happen. Studly said it didn’t matter. He wanted to proceed regardless.

So at three yesterday afternoon Studly went in for a minor procedure that lasted approximately 10 minutes and has already offered relief; although, he’s been cautioned not to expect the full effects of the procedure to kick in for another few days. Oh, and miracle of miracles, the insurance company approved the procedure. Unheard of!

As I typed this yesterday evening, he was in bed snoring happily. That was the best part of the day. I never thought his snores could sound so sweet. Thanks for listening to our saga. I needed to write it even if it’s not the most spine-tingling story.

Peace, people.