The other side of the story

Looking back at recent entries, I notice I keep coming up with things I did for Deb, but I haven't gone into things she did for me. I worry that it makes me look like I'm trying to boost myself or, worse, not painting a complete picture of her.

So this one's to try to set the record a little straighter.

1. On one of our first dates, we went to Poor Richard's in Colorado Springs. If I was to list my favorite places on earth, Poor Richard's would make the list. It's a combination pizza place/bookstore/toy store. Seriously.

Anyway, being me, I was showing off by playing with the toys, especially this dragon handpuppet. It had a tongue, so I started using it to lick her face, my face, the other toys' faces.

Months later, for Christmas I got that puppet. I barely remembered playing with it, but she did. Its name is Aloyisius, and I still have him. And yes, he still licks everything in sight.

2. After I had my torn ACL repaired, Deb drove us back to the townhouse, but I couldn't make it inside, only to a lawn chair on the back porch which faced the street. I was weak, and I could feel my vision narrowing. I was getting the whole tunnelvision/head into the light thing, I swear. As i was passing out, she kept her cool, called 911 and got an ambulance.

I fully recommend marrying someone who's had emergency training and has worked as a 911 operator. They're good in crises. We even stopped one day at a traffic crash and she took charge of the scene until the highway patrol arrived.

Anyway, it turned out the anesthetic hadn't worn off - I remember the paramedic saying my blood pressure was 75 over 50, and he was surprised I had any consciousness at all. So after some monitoring, I got to go home for reals. But in our townhouse the bedroom was on the second floor, so Deb nursed me in the living room for the next couple of days.

3. The day after my first full-on panic attack, I was petrified of going in public, but I knew that avoiding crowds wasn't going to be an option. So when Deb went to the grocery store, I tagged along. Walking in the door, I was paralyzed. She told me I didn't have to go in, but I told her I did. OK, she said, and she took my hand and led me around the store, reassuring me constantly.

That's the girl I miss.