Me and Hugh (or Maybe It Should Be "Hugh and I")

Anyway, whichever way the title reads it will be a problem if ever I am called upon to read this piece aloud. I mean how does one make "Hugh" sound any different from "you" and if that is so, then the listener would immediately be given an erroneous impression as to the subjects of this story.

Actually, Hugh is not the subject herein, and only serves as catalyst for a discussion about my favorite topic, myself. And the truth is I have another writer of fairly more renown than myself to blame for all of this: David Sedaris.

I just read a short tale from Mr. Sedaris giving chapter and verse, let me correct that, it was too short to have chapters so more accurately I guess I would have to say he merely gave verse, of the necessity for and recovery from hip replacement surgery of his long time partner, Hugh.

Not that I need this surgery, although a friend of mine, yes him, not you, will be under the knife shortly. But I have had sciatic pain and other back related issues on and off for many years. And while that has now temporarily quieted thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, my left hip has been barking for days now. And Mr. Sedaris did start his story by relating how Hugh went from complaining about his sciatica to complaining about his hip, which discomfort then only escalated over time into what was portrayed to be non-stop whining. Which is exactly how, in the worst case scenario scene now showing on demand in my brain, this all plays out for me.

So I study Hugh's discomfort and recovery as if it were my own. The days leading up to the doctor's "bone on bone" diagnosis, the crankiness in the months preceding the surgery, the medications and the medical paraphernalia required in the days after the new hip is inserted and the eventual return to the old normal.

I guess I could ask all those friends of mine who have had this experience to give me the details but that would be far too premature and far too embarrassing since it is most likely that what I am experiencing will dissipate and disappear in the coming days. But never let it be said that I did not milk every ache and pain for all it was worth.

I have long enjoyed the writing of Mr. Sedaris. How he seemed so capable of poking fun at his myriad quirks, how he and Hugh always appeared to be at odds with one another, an ill fit that somehow was a perfect match. And I too have tried to highlight my imperfections, slight as they may be, as well as the long time suffering of my beleaguered spouse who each day must question what grievous wrong she committed in a past life to be saddled with me in this one.

So, maybe, in some ways our stories are parallel. And thus, looking at it in just the right light, it could be that Hugh's story is but a foreshadowing of mine. Except the decibel of my whining, should the worst occur, would certainly eclipse that of Hugh's (that last word, if read quickly out loud, definitely sounds like it came directly from the script of My Cousin Vinny). And the feigned unhappiness of Mr. Sedaris through this process would be all too real for my LSS (long suffering spouse).

Me and Hugh. Hugh and I. Anyway you say it, or Hugh say it, it sounds wrong. And exactly right.