My Batman

Dr. B. Zajdlik Phd

This is an impromptu blog.  Some things just need to be written about.  I have been married for 29 years.  Who gets married at 22?  I started medical school in September of 1985 and I got married in December of 1985.  Every woman in my family before me married young.  I was the first to go to University and the first to have a career.  I was willing to break many moulds but I met a very handsome man in January of 1984 and that was it.  

We met at the University of Guelph.  I was out for a quiet evening with my room-mate who promised me we would not interact with any of her male friends.  I was recovering from a nasty breakup with my high school sweetheart.  I was very committed to being on my own for a long, long time.  My room-mate was committed to hunting down her boyfriend and she found him at the Keg in the University Centre.  He was seated at a table with five of his friends.  I knew there was no point in objecting so, I scanned the crowd and chose the best looking guy to sit beside.  

There is a theory that we are drawn to mates whose characteristics and personalities will challenge us to grow and mature.  Love and passion are wonderful but, truthfully, marriage is the best place to work out our difficulties, sort out our baggage and learn to put someone else first.  It is at times, a very painful process.  Done well and with the greatest respect to its precious value, a marriage can pass on blessings to many future generations.  Done poorly, it has disastrous consequences that are often played out for many generations.  

On one of our early dates, we were walking back to residence when a pick up truck passed by.  It was full of young university students who catcalled as they drove past.  This enraged my future husband who took off on foot, caught up to the truck, chastised the occupants who sped off with their tails between their legs.  It was at that moment that I knew I would marry him.  

Last night, we had just drifted off to sleep when our dog uncharacteristically barked from the living room.  Our daughter yelled from her room.  There were people on the porch.  I think it took 5 seconds before my husband was out of bed, the bedside bat in his hands.  Clothed in his underwear and armed with a bat, he confronted the intruders just after they had broken into our kitchen.  Injured, coatless and bleeding, two very intoxicated teenagers stood there terrified.  They had crashed their car on the road in front of our house, abandoned it and then staggered  across the field shedding their coats and their drug paraphernalia en-route.   

My husband was on the phone with the police while I tried to tend to this terrified, painfully thin and heavily inebriated girl.  How she ended up in this state, God only knows.  She was so afraid.  She screamed for her mother.  Broke my heart.  Her boyfriend took off out the door leaving her behind.  Not the kind of man who would run down a pick up truck for her.  She soon followed refusing our help, stumbling into minus ten degrees.  It was over in minutes.  I went back to bed.  My husband got dressed and joined the police in a manhunt just as the crashed vehicle on the road exploded into flames.  

Not a James Bond movie; just a night at the Zajdlik house.   I will write a blog in the future in which I will honour our police officers and firefighters.  Cars and fire trucks up and down our stretch of the road, uniformed officers trekking into frigid farmers fields searching for two human beings who would be good and frozen by now.  And right behind them, my knight in shining armour.  Fearless and ever protective.  

I think he crawled back into bed after 3 am.  He slept fretfully.  I slept very soundly.  As I left the house this afternoon for an overnight conference, I kissed him on the cheek.  "I love you, my batman"

We are not 22 year olds anymore.  I'd say we were somewhat worn and seasoned warriors but we have never been alone and I have always felt safe.  Blessed by Batman.


Dr. Anne-Marie MD CCFP
Founder of Bracelet of Hope