I’ve spent a lifetime making decisions for others. Many times, the decision I made had life or death ramifications. As a doc, it was my job to make those decisions and I made them if I wanted to or not. Right of wrong, the weight of the decisions I made rested on my shoulders.
When I wasn’t playing doc, I avoided making decisions as much as possible. I left most decisions to Renee whether it was fair or not. She understood and took on the responsibility of running the home and business. At times, I suspect my children wondered why I turned to their mother to make pretty much all family decisions. I’m sure I appeared “whipped.”
The wonderful part of our marriage is that we seem to innately know what each other wants and make every attempt to fill those needs. Sometimes we miscommunicated as do all married couple. One of those instances involved a picture of a mother and her young daughter.
When we packed to move to NC, I realized that every piece of art in the house had a story to tell. In my second year of residency we went to an art auction with one of my professors. There was a beautiful piece by Vickers and I bid $350. At that time in our lives, $350 was a small fortune. I saw what I thought was a look of disapproval on my young wife’s face, so I stopped bidding and it sold for $450. After the gavel came down, she asked me why I quit bidding. She wanted that picture despite the expense but wasn’t willing to make the decision to buy it on her own.
To make a long story short, I found an identical piece at a gallery in New York and bought it. I learned two things that day. Number one was that no matter how sure I am of what my wife is thinking, I had better verify it. Number 2: If she is responsible for all non-medical decisions, I don’t have to worry about them.
Now that I’m retired and we have moved, we are sharing decisions more equitably. I can tell you I don’t like it. Making the decision to send you to surgery or not was nothing compared to where we buy the TV for the family room and whether we buy a brand name or not. Even worse is deciding which towels we put in the guest bathroom.
Being retired is so stressful. I think I’ll take a nap! Do I nap in the family room or on the porch? Renee, can you decide for me? I’m tired.
Here’s your music for the day, as well as a joke:
What do you call two fat people talking?
A heavy discussion.
