Despite my husband appearing to be 'mellow' and 'easy going', I've learned that he apparently likes to arrive in a room with a 'bang'!
After his long sleepless flight from Dakar, through JFK, and up to Portland, he arrived at the hospital looking as happy and wonderful as ever. However, after touching base with doctors and family, two things were on his mind: Pad Thai Takeout from Vientiane Market, and Geary's Hampshire Ale.
Rich stepped out to get take out, and also, the seasonal micro brew he had had been craving. He returned to the hospital, equipped with Pad Thai, dumplings, Vitamin C water, and of course, the seasonal ale. Immediately security instructed him to get rid of the beer, which he sadly returned to the trunk of the car for another time. You would think the saga would be over...
After he arrived to the room, the man at the security desk had called and alerted the uniformed secrity officer about the situation. Within minutes, he appeared in our room looking to confiscate any other alcohol, fully equipped with hand cuffs and gun.
I had never been so embarrassed. The nurse was in the room, my belly strapped to monitors, and my dear husband, trying to sort out this 'high school' alcohol raid.
In my drug induced state, I looked at the officer, belly and monitors exposed, and said, 'Listen, he just got off a plane from Africa. All he wants is to enjoy his pad thai with a beer. Is that too much to ask considering these circumstances?'
The officer left, but throughout the evening, word has spread among the floor that our room was searched for alcohol.
Is this what it's like to be a Valdmanis?