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The comment began a lively discussion, bringing Rocko literally to his knees, albeit earlier than he’d wanted, to ask Liz for her hand in marriage. He’d had the ring in his pocket, ready to ask her later that night when they were alone, but he felt like the timing was perfect. As though he’d done it just for them, George and Lillian rose from the table in tears, clapping and cheering.
“Finally!” my father cried.
I watched my parents, touched by their response. I had come to dinner alone after spending the earlier part of the day with Flynn and his family. Their tradition was more about Christmas morning, with a big breakfast and then watching the grandchildren open their gifts.
The family had apparently forgiven me for avoiding their accolades at our first meeting, and the day had been filled with happiness and appreciation that their son was fine after what could have had a horrific outcome.
During dinner with my family, I texted Flynn and sent photos. I had difficulty picturing him sitting at the big walnut table with my loud, chubby aunts and their husbands, my taciturn grandfather and long-suffering grandmother, my grieving family. I wondered if that aura of loss would ever disappear. We’d always be the family who had lost a child.
But the best news? I had passed the state boards. Waiting for my license was torture. In the meantime, I reread my old perioperative nursing textbook along with a bunch of literature from the operating room nursing certification group. My obsession with buying underwear had diminished somewhat, replaced by a new passion to learn everything I could about nursing the surgical patient.
“Remember, it’s a more primitive setting than what you’re used to at school,” Flynn explained while we were preparing for the trip. Now that I could come on as a full-fledged professional nurse, I wanted to know all the details about what supplies they would ship out in advance.
Flynn introduced me to Cindy Patron, a retired RN who had accompanied Flynn on the trips since he’d started going to foreign countries.
“I’m so thrilled you’re going,” she confided. “I’m getting too old for this. He’s going more often and staying longer, and my husband is resenting the time I’m away.”
“I’m not sure how helpful I’m going to be.”
“Trust me, dear, you’re a godsend. I’m going to go over everything with you, and we’ll set up a few practice cases. I’ll teach you how to gown and glove and arrange the instruments he uses on the Mayo stand.” She showed me a picture of a metal stand with a tray where I’d line up the instruments Flynn would use. “They’re the same items for almost all his facial cases. You’ll see. There are just a few types of sutures he uses, too.
“The most important thing is keeping your sterile field sterile, and that’s not always easy in some environments we’ve worked in. Flies will land where they will.”
We went through a mock setup, and I discovered that common sense played a huge part in operating room nursing. There were very few gray areas.If in doubt about a supply’s sterility, throw it outwas a phrase Cindy repeated.
“I want to retire. I might even let my license lapse,” she said.
I wasn’t dependent on her and would work hard at working independently once we got to our destination. In the meantime, I worked on getting a passport. So many exciting things coming together.
Flynn and I did a few mock setups, too. First, he watched me scrub my hands and arms with a sterile brush, and gown and glove. “You’re a pro already!”
He tied my gown in back but slid his hands underneath my shirt first, caressing my breasts. I closed my eyes, hoping no one was looking through the glass observation windows.
“I’m going to gown and glove so we can practice together,” he said.
“I’m not sure we’re going to accomplish anything if you keep flirting.”
“We should practice kissing with masks on,” he teased.
“That would defeat the purpose,” I replied.
We took turns being the reasonable rule-following participant and the rule breaker. Flynn was naughty more than me. But Cindy had told me that he was all professional and no-nonsense when there was a patient on the table, and I expected nothing less.
The week after Christmas, I sat in my kiosk at work, and when business slowed down, I furtively glanced around before opening my computer to eBay.
Wicked Unlined Lace & Velvet Bralette.
Colors: Wine, Strawberry, Blueberry, Kiwi.
I clicked on each color in my size. It was time for self-care. In the middle of placing the order, while I waited for my credit card to process, Flynn called.
“Hey, beautiful. What are you doing?”
“Um, something private,” I said, flushing when I remembered he still didn’t know about the underwear thing. “I’ll tell you about it the next time we’re together.”
“And when is that going to be?” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“When are you off again?”
