It was obvious that the hospital people who took care of Peter for that month viewed him as “special” because they were all worried that, with his arm, he wouldn’t be able to handle the colostomy situation. It amused me, I couldn’t help it.
One day the two surgeons called me aside.
“Mrs. Mastroianni, with your husband’s disability, he may have problems handling his situation.”
I laughed. “You are both very sweet men and you’ve been so great about everything. But did you ever find out what Peter does for a living? He’s a sculptor and mold-maker.”
The two doctors just stared at each other. I told them to relax and treat him like any other patient.
There was another situation that presented itself. With the type of surgery that Peter had, it was normal to send a medical person of some kind to come to the home and change the dressing. But at this point, our insurance was exhausted and would not cover this. I just said, OK, teach me how to do it. It can’t be all that bad. And it wasn’t bad at all. Fortunately I have a strong stomach and I don’t get queasy handling messy stuff.
So twice a day I changed the dressing that covered the wound. Believe it or not, it was educational. I saw how the body heals itself, and nothing bad happened. Everything was fine. In fact, Peter and Michael were able to go on a camping trip only not across the U.S. and back. We had a family meeting and it was decided that the two of them would plan the trip in three years from then. Michael would be 16 and could help with the driving.
So the two of them, after Peter got his strength back, strapped our canoe onto the truck and took off for a week’s camping trip in the Endless Mountain area of PA.
lgmwriting 