Her name was Wendy but I called her Heaven. She liked that. Her green eyes would light up and I would see the light of a perfect future shining out, washing over me, caressing me. Everything about her oval face was the way it ought to be: her small, slightly freckled nose turned up slightly, and her lips – what can I say about those lips? “Don’t tell your parents that I call you Heaven, okay? They might think I’m some kind of weirdo.” I could see that she understood completely. After a couple of dates, we started making out. I couldn’t believe what a good kisser she was. Soon it progressed to more advanced exploration. This is real love, I thought. I was beginning to get carried away. I forgot about my ostomy completely which, in retrospect, amazes me. Love can turn a person upside down. Our hands were exploring each other. I felt her fingers go down inside my shorts. “What’s this?” she exclaimed, pulling her hand away. My heart missed a beat. I tried to tell her what it was. “Eww,” she wheezed. My Heaven had turned to Hell. But all was not lost. The following month, I met the girl I’d marry. We just celebrated anniversary number fifty-two. Now that’s Heaven.
A great lesson in what is real vs what is fantasy. When looking for a mate, best to look in the deep end, rather than the shallow end of the pool. Sounds like your wife is an exceptionally strong swimmer. Congratulations on 52 years with Mrs Right.
Laurie
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Oh, oh, oh, oh... she felt your ostomy bag! Now I get it. I was thinking she said "Eww" after grabbing something else in there... my bad. Sorry about that! Good for you, Henry! Funny how when one door closes, another opens. Until we get to that last door...
:)
bob
Learn about some basic diet and ostomy pouch routines that can help prevent them.
