Apr 16, 2002 4 min read

Some husbands have gone home unexpectedly and caught their wives with another man. Not me.

I caught my wife in the front yard.

Which may not be as bad as finding her with some tall, dark stranger. Except in this case it was less than a week after she had surgery to repair her damaged foot.

“The doctor told you to stay off your foot for at least a week,’ I said as I got out of the car.

“What time is it?’ she asked. “Is it noon already?’

I have been going home since she had surgery to fix lunch for her and see if there was anything she needed. I have been caring for her as best as I can, hopping up anytime she needs her water glass refilled, getting her pills, cooking, cleaning and washing clothes, and a few other sundry chores.

The doctor ground some spurs off her foot and drilled a couple of holes in one of the bones to attempt to create scar tissue that would act as substitute cartilage.

She spent a couple of really miserable days following surgery, but began feeling much better on the third day. After a few more had passed, and the pain had greatly diminished, she really started feeling better.

But seeing her standing in the front yard on one of our bright, sunny days recently, during what I call the “stay-off-your-foot’ tenure, didn’t make me very happy.

Yes, I realize for someone as active as she is it must be very difficult to be confined. Especially when the weather recently has been near perfection. She had been studying from the front window the edge of the yard, figuring how she could plant flowers to accent it better.

“I just came out,’ she whined. “And you caught me.’

Seems she wanted a closer look at the spot where she plans to plant flowers. Seeing it up close would give her a better idea of what type of flower to place in the yard.

Oh, she was using an old cane, one she admitted right from the start that she was having trouble figuring out how to “drive.’ When she would try using it she’d put her weight on the wrong side. She wouldn’t lean on the cane to take the weight off her injured foot. Instead, she would walk on her heel, hobbling along, cane in one hand, serving no real useful purpose. I have found the cane leaning against the kitchen sink, her bathroom sink and even hanging from a chair in the dining room.

You’d think that should have given me cause for worry.

Well, after scolding her, she hobbled back indoors and sat down.

“I have to get up once and a while,’ she told me.

“But you don’t have to wander about on the lawn,’ I reminded her.

“Well, if you had gotten home a little sooner, you wouldn’t have found me in the front yard,’ she said.

“Why?’

“I was in the back yard,’ she confessed.

After surgery, the doctor had tightly wrapped an elastic bandage around her wounded appendage. On that first night he called telling us we could remove that for a while. Since then, I have wrapped it around her foot before I leave for the office and removed it each evening.

On the day of her little excursion, I hadn’t put the bandage on.

I was tempted to wrap it around both feet. But I figured unless I tied her hands, she’d figure it out.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on her. After all, if I make it through her recovery, she’ll probably have to care for me. She’s liable to tie that bandage around my throat.

Have a good day.

Jim Pletcher is the Herald-Standard’s business editor. E-mail: jpletcher@heraldstandard.com.