As you may or may not know, Alan had surgery Friday. I had my typical response of going a bit nutty. I was absolutely fine, well... my version of fine, until we made it to the hospital. I was getting a bit desperate for coffee and a bite to eat so planted myself in the long line at the Starbucks. (Yeah, wow, in hospital. So awesome.) Alan went to check in and he even said he wouldn’t go anywhere else without telling me. Well, after that long ass line I walked around the corner to find him. I knew he was in a bright orange shirt and that shirt was no where that I could see. The pathetic facade of tough-got-it-under-control chic vanished in 1.8 seconds. The tears started welling, the lump in the throat was immediate, the racing heartbeat was instantaneous. The only thing I could think to do was to plop myself down on the middle of the bench, in the middle of everyone, and try not to look too ridiculous. I had just gotten myself back under control when Alan walked up. I immediately started sniffling again and we both just laughed. Typical Jena.
Unless I am giving birth, hospitals completely geek me out. COMPLETELY. In fact, I rarely, if ever, will even visit someone in the hospital. I might make it as far as the waiting room. Man, I’m with ya in spirit, but I ain’t going in. No flipping way. The handful of times I have, it is a serious exercise in behaving for me. The degree of my ridiculousness is really stupid. When I was first dating, and then later married to Alan, he worked as a corpsman in the Navy. He worked in a hospital. It was nearly impossible for me to even go in to visit him. It was like pulling teeth. I made him meet me downstairs for the longest time before I’d go upstairs on my own. I visited my grandfather in the hospital recently, and to reward myself for not losing my mind I bought a new nail polish at the gift shop on the way out. Just this weekend Alan and I stopped by to visit a friend in the hospital and my first question to Alan upon walking out the door was, “Did I act like an idiot?” My social ineptitude runs deep. I try so hard to be a grown up. :)
When my own husband was waiting for surgery, I was driving away. When he was having surgery, I was shopping. I was in survival mode. And before anyone gives me grief about going to a mall while my husband was under the knife, just know that he highly encouraged me to go*. I went with his blessing. And I really did only buy one pair of shoes. 
* A word from Alan. This encouragement was indeed strong as it is difficult to concentrate on one's surgery when your support system is crumbling around you. After working in hospitals for all these years, I can't even say she has an irrational fear, there's some sick people in these places, but she does go a little over the top with her reactions. Regardless of these reactions, I knew before we were married and still chose to spend my life with this woman and I can guarantee you the shopping was good for both of us.