I'm only now able to talk about it.
Okay, that's a bit dramatic.
ASIDE: What's the difference between melodramatic and dramatic? I surely don't know.
But I was shaken up quite a bit.
Here's the story:
D-man (it's weird not to type "Handsome" now... I'm never satisfied) left the house around 12:15. To get to his clinical by 2:00. He'd probably arrive closer to 1:30, but earlier is better. I talked to my wonderful man around 1:15, and he said his clinical was re-scheduled for 3:00, but he's gonna get there early and study until it was time.
I went on my way, lived my life, and did class and other things until about 5:00. Had a phone message, when I got out of class, from D's buddy that asked if I had spoken to Dante. Apparently, according to my message, my husband had never shown up at his clinical. Weird.
Determined not to freak out, I continued on my way to purchase Honey Crisp Apples (because some things are still important, even if your hubby *might* be MIA). I didn't cry. I tried to call Handsome, but only got voicemail. I did a little tally in my head, counting up the hours that he had been out of contact. I called his buddy back, tried to get the details. I called my SIL. I called my mom.
Then I cried.
I checked the traffic situation, seeing if there were any major wrecks. I decided we should have gotten that extra insurance on our mortgage. I thought about calling hospitals along the route. I did all of this while telling myself that he was likely asleep in the parked car, worn out from studying. I called my friend who lives near the hospital he was supposed to be at, and she drove around the parking lot. No luck.
I cried again.
Finally, I decided to call the hospital that said D hadn't shown up, to see if I could get details from them. When I called to "confirm" that my husband wasn't there, a very nice nurse answered the phone and mentioned that one guy had shown up, but she didn't know his name. So she went to check.
And then my love got on the phone.
And I didn't cry.
I didn't say any of the nice things I was thinking. I said "I'm going to kill you when you get home, through no fault of your own."
There had been a mix-up of who D was supposed to be meeting, and the preceptor (what ever that is) who was scheduled to meet with D wasn't at the place that D was told to go, so they missed each other. And I guess the preceptor-lady didn't feel like calling the ER to see if he was there, like I did. I must admit she was likely much less motivated than I, to find him.
Due to the clinical, hubs didn't get home until after I was asleep. I didn't kill him, though. I snuggled up to him and fell back asleep, glad he wasn't lost any more. The next day, I called him while he was at work, just to hear him answer the phone, and confirm again to myself that he was still no longer lost.
I'd say something poignant now, about how I thought of all the things I'd wished I'd said, or how this craziness has made me appreciate my man more or whatever... but no. It just made me really glad that we do make an effort to talk nice to each other, and to say "I love you" a ridiculous amount. I don't think it should be a near-death/near-loss/near-anything moment that makes you treasure a love. Instead, I think it should be breakfast in the wee hours and a stolen afternoon and plugging in each others phones to charge that remind you to treasure this one beautiful love.
He's it for me,