The Men Who Never Let Me Down

I sat there, feeling my heart beat in my ears, feeling his chilly hands dance over my back, lifting my bra. “Just breathe, Helen. No worries, just breathe”, he softly told me as he continued on his discovery. I breathed in again, trying to slow my heart down, but it wouldn’t. I was nervous and every time his piercing brown eyes met mine, my heart went a little bit faster. Now that his face was inches away from mine and his hands were gliding over my body, I was almost paralyzed with shyness. Although I knew that I shouldn’t, I let my head tilt up toward his and imagined myself kissing him.

“We are going to have to do an echocardiogram, Helen. Your heart is going really fast”.

“Okay, Dr.” I replied back to him, my mind in a dreamy fog. With a, “No, wait! I don’t have health insurance yet. However, you know my heart history and I have been having symptoms. What can we do without an echo? Come on, I know I am fine. I don‘t think I need anything anyway.” I looked pleadingly at my Dr. Sexy as I lovingly referred to him. His brow furrowed, however, when I said this.

“Come on, Helen. You have Gideon to worry about here. I know that you have had multiple heart surgeries and you are scared. I know you are sick of it all, but you are the only thing this little guy has. You have to take care of yourself.”

I looked down as I fiddled with my hands. I had just gotten a job teaching in Detroit, but I didn’t have benefits. I was paid very little and just getting groceries every week, diapers, paying rent, paying daycare and other expenses, I always just squeaked by every month. My finances never worked out on paper and any banker who would have analyzed my finances would have shaken his head and said it wasn’t fiscally possible. However, each month, with my guardian angels all around me, I always managed to make it.
An echocardiogram, however, was definitely not in my budget. I didn’t know how I was going to do it. Because Dr. Sexy was being very gracious and wonderful, I walked out of his office with medicine.

I am convinced now that my heart was acting up that day because he was so close to me as he listened to my heart during my exam. Either way, I ended up going home and eventually taking the medicine. Folks, let me tell you why this is bad for obvious reasons: the wrong medicine prescribed can kill a person. Although it was a shot in the dark, the medicine did help me for awhile. So, don’t look unfavorably towards the doctor that prescribed me the medicine. He is a wonderful soul who if he asked me tomorrow, I could probably arrange to marry him. Okay, stop laughing, I know I am being dramatic.

It is easy to continue on with the stories of this man and explain to you all why he is a man that has never let me down. This man, who in my loneliest and most scared hours of being a mom (taking my sick child to the doctor) has always patted me on the back and told me that I am doing a good job at being a mother.
One time, he even squared his shoulders with mine, put both hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. He said, “Helen, stop worrying. You are a great mom and your son is lucky to have you.” I almost melted right there after he said that because that is the single most attractive thing you can say to a single parent who is giving their all to their child. It also took everything I had not to embrace him.

I guess the thing that makes this man the most attractive to me is that he is always there. I can make an appointment and he will always be there, listening with intent ears. I never feel like I am bothering him because I convinced myself that he is interested. However, I am paying him for his time, so he has to be there. I guess the thing that makes this man the most attractive to me is that he is always there. It never fails, whenever I have been in the hospital (two times) and my son has been in the hospital (two times), he has visited us. He always has his sweet look of concern on his face as though he is pained for us to be in the hospital.

Although we have had many memories in the hospital, my favorite memory with Dr. Sexy was when my son was in the hospital for a week. I hated being in the hospital, especially because it was for my son. However, Dr. Sexy helped to distract me from worrying myself into a tizzy. I am the kind of mother, as you have already probably figured out that loves my son to pieces and would do anything for him.

When my son was admitted into the hospital, I looked at the staff as though they were absolutely insane when they suggested I leave him and go home to get some sleep. Thankfully, there was a pull out couch in his room where I made my bed and remained by his side for the entirety of his stay. The only second I ever left my son’s side was when my dad showed up to visit and I actually had the chance to take a quick shower.

I was so thankful to be able to clean up a bit, but paranoia had set in since I hadn’t seen the light of day in six days and also since my son had been in such bad condition. I barely toweled off that night, as I hurriedly put on my best friend’s Jamie’s Ohio State shirt (that she lovingly brought to the hospital with her when she visited, along with all of the essentials that I would need. Thank God for friends) and a pair of jogging pants. I ran into the room in fear that something had gone on with my son’s health in my absence to find him happily rocking with my dad and watching television. I regretfully hadn’t even taken the time to brush my teeth and was about to turn around and go back into the bathroom to do so when my son saw me and began crying for me. So, I reluctantly headed back to the pull-out couch that I had been sleeping on for the week next to my son and my dad handed him to me. “If only I could have brushed my teeth, I would have felt so much better. Oh well.” I thought as I was content to find my son still happy despite my absence long enough for me to shower. That night, I went to bed with my long, blonde hair wet on my pillow and fell sound asleep next to my little one for what seemed like only seconds.

“Good morning, Helen. Good morning, Gideon”, was the next thing I heard as a soft light slowly flickered on and I saw Dr. Sexy peering down at us, trying not to laugh. “Helen, what are you doing with Gideon in your bed? You know he is supposed to be in his own little crib. Oh… that’s alright. I should have known better with you. I know that you are just worried about him. This was probably the only way you could get any sleep, huh?”

“Whaaat? I sat up slowly with my hair half sticking to my face, half sticking to my pillow and thinking that I was dreaming. How did you get into our house?” I asked with my heart pounding and I sat up quickly. “Wait…where am I? Oh..wait. We are still in the hospital, aren’t we?” I said as a fire slowly spread through my cheeks and up to my ears.

“Yes, Helen. I am here to check Gideon. Nice shirt, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I said as I looked down at my red t-shirt that read “Ohio State Buckeyes. The only thing I was thinking was, “Oh my gosh! I don’t have my bra on! I must have taken it off during the night!“ as I peered frantically around the room trying to locate it. Sure enough, on the table that was next to the couch lay my blue, lacy bra. It seemed as if both Dr. Sexy and I glanced at the bra sort of sadly laying on the table as our eyes met again and my cheeks burned even more deeply with embarrassment. I would have given him a little laugh, but instead, at that moment, as I caught my reflection in the mirror, I gasped in horror at what I saw. Staring back at me were my own blue eyes, rimmed with old mascara and my hair looked as though I were trying to copy Bob Marley’s hair style. I looked back at Dr. Sexy and again, he just sort of titled his head and gave an adorable little snicker.

“I know, it’s been rough after six days in here, huh?” he said empathetically as he began checking my son’s ears.

I began sort of laughing at myself and muttering out loud to him how I had taken a shower the previous night and went to bed with wet hair and that I usually didn’t look like this… and went on and on. As I continued to babble, Dr. Sexy just put his hand on my arm and gave me the quiet sign with his finger to his lips, as he tried to listen to my son’s breathing.

“Helen, everything looks good with Gideon. It looks as if you two will be going home within the next two days. We just need to do another MRI to make sure everything is alright. Do take care and get plenty of rest yourself. I know you have been stressed. Don’t worry, you are doing a great job. Maybe see if once you guys get out of here, you can get a little time for yourself, okay?” He finished as he began to get up from his chair and start towards the door. “Make sure you call my office to schedule a follow-up appointment in a few days”.

“Wait!” I wanted to say. “Okay, why don’t you make sure I take some time for myself by taking me out?”

However, I really didn’t say that, just thought it, as I personally am not sure what to think of this man. Probably, he is terrified of the idea of ever dating a person with a horrible health history like me. Who knows. Either way, I know that this man, with each visit that he makes, the more gaga over him I fall. I know, it’s ridiculous and I sound completely insane. Hopefully, there are not any more visits to the hospital. But, if there are, I know with certainty that Dr. Sexy is one that will never let me down. He will always come and visit to see if we are okay.

Besides Dr. Sexy’s dependability, the fact that he is single and only two years older than myself drives me crazy. I actually found him on one of my dating websites one day. I found out from his profile that he was Jewish, also fluent in Spanish and had visited Cambodia for a semester in college. In his profile picture, he was sitting with young, Cambodian kids and smiling that dazzling smile of his. I was bowled over that day to find that he was single and looking, spoke Spanish, and that he liked kids!

On some dating websites, they have an interests column in which you check the things you are interested in. For example, there would be bulleted subjects that you might like such as: thunderstorms, kids, outdoors, hunting, fishing, sports, etc. and you would put a check in the boxes of that which you are interested in. On this same part of the website, you can match your interests with your potential date’s interests and see how much you have in common. We matched up rather nicely with at least 90% of our answers the same. The only very important thing that was different was our religion. I am Catholic and he is Jewish. Bound and determined to win Dr. Sexy over, I decided I had to take matters into my own hands.

So ladies, guess what Helen did? You got it! I began researching the Jewish religion and convinced myself that I could convert and perhaps even start my own club, “Jews for Jesus” and we could live happily ever after. Every time there on out (which was often as I was in the beginning stages of teaching again and my son was just beginning daycare, so we were frequently getting sick), I would get gussied up (despite being ill) and some how manage to bring up a Jewish holiday that was coming up or wish him a happy Roshashana. I even went so far as to buy Challah bread for about a year. What a moron I am sometimes.

Nothing ever came of breaking my neck going out of my way to impress Dr. Sexy. I am assuming he is much like I am professionally. I would never date the dad of one of my students, so how could I ever assume that he would want to date a patient. “That’s it,” I thought one day, “I am changing doctors! Then, when he gets my request for my chart to be moved to a different doctor, he will call me up and confess his undying love for me!”

I know, I know. I was delusional. The new Helen now sees all of this as an impossibility and will not schedule a bris for her unborn son that she has created with Doctor Sexy just yet. They say heartbreak like the kind that I have been through gives a person an edge. My brother told me the other day that I am “callused” now. I would much rather refer to myself as self aware, however. So, I am moving on and will now just appreciate Dr. Sexy when we go and visit him on our doctor visits. I will quietly continue to admire him and try not to get any more heart medicine or the like unnecessarily prescribed to me.

Since this chapter is about the men who have never let me down, I need to quickly add that there are two more males who will always, unfailingly be there (and these two I don’t even have to pay to be there!). The two are my dad and my son, Gideon. I hate to ignore my three older brothers who have also been there for me, especially my eldest brother who was the very reason that my son and I weren’t homeless after my husband leaving. He and his family are the ones who welcomed me with open arms, welcomed me into their home and helped me out financially without ever batting an eye.

However, my dad is, without exaggeration, Superman. Each and every hospital stay that I had from the age of sixteen until now, he has been by my side. In fact, when I was in the hospital delivering my son, everyone kept calling him my husband. Sure, we would get the quizzical looks from people as you could see their minds whirling when they saw the obvious age difference between us, but it didn’t matter. We didn’t care. Don’t get me wrong, we corrected every nurse that came in and called him my husband, but after awhile, it was something that just made us laugh.

One of the most humorous times just occurred recently when he, my son and I were out eating at a restaurant. As you know, my son is still a toddler and is in the beginning ages of speaking. For this reason, he calls my dad “daddy”. I think it is due to word association, where a toddler hears what is spoken and repeats it. He hears me call my dad “dad” and he copies it, despite my father being his grandpa.
Either way, there we sat after ordering when the waitress commented how beautiful of a child we had. A man at the table next to us shot my dad the most “you should be ashamed of yourself” glance and my dad loudly said, “Helen, you have got to start referring to me as dad more often when we are out and work on Gideon calling me grandpa”.

“Okay, dad,” I emphasized loudly to get my point across to the old man that my dad was not a cradle-robbing pig; he was actually my father. The old guy merely rolled his eyes at us and shifted his body, so that he didn’t have to look at us. At this, my dad and I began laughing and of course, although he knew not what he was laughing at, Gideon began his bellows of laughter, too.

The final man in my life is actually, the reason why I still exist I think sometimes. When one becomes a parent, no matter how horrible things can seem at times and no matter how badly you would just love to stay in bed all day and cry, you can’t. You have to get up and be a parent for that child. Kids remind us of our resilience as human beings and that life keeps going even if you are not ready for it to move on. One day, I am sure he will be a very emotional, sensitive man who is aware of woman’s needs because he was raised by me. After all, he was the reason that I had to keep going when my husband left. Even though he hadn’t even been born yet, he already saved my life once. Because of him, I had to move on. I had to get a job and find a place to live. I had to grow, even though the only place I wanted to be was with my ex-husband and in our little cape-cod style house.

It doesn’t happen often anymore because I believe I have cried so much that tears no longer come easily. Call it jaded or whatever you wish, but I call it perspective. Either way, my son doesn’t see me cry that much anymore. However, when he did in the beginning, even though he was very, very young, he would still give me hugs, kisses and even reach his chubby little hand up to my face and wipe my tears away. Words can’t describe the love that you feel for your child, let alone when you have formed a bond like we have. I heard a saying once that seeing your child is like seeing your heart walk around outside of your body. I truly believe that.

In the beginning, I felt guilty because he wasn’t going to have my ex-husband living with us. Now, I am grateful. I am also thankful that I have full custody. I feel that because of our living situations, he will grow up to make his own decisions in the right way, without being brainwashed by my ex. He will grow up without seeing his dad sneak off with the neighbor girl like he had been. He will grow up becoming the amazing man that he was born to be.

Although these three men in this chapter are different, they all have one thing in common. I am thankful for them for many different reasons. My gratitude towards Dr. Sexy is of course, less than the gratitude I have towards my father and my child, but still the same, I think one thing when thinking of any of them: Thank God for the men who never let you down.

Read our blog on dating, updated every Thursday with blogs on dating tips, advice, and people’s dating stories. Go to http://www.adventuresindating.net