Aeon (aeoncole) wrote,

  • Mood:

Hubby Update

The surgery was today and everything went fine. I got to the hospital a bit after 2:30 this afternoon. When I walked out of the elevator my husband was sitting in a wheelchair waiting in the hallway. I was expecting him to be going for a scan because that is what we were told was going to happen. He said, “They are taking me to surgery. I was about to ask for my cell to call you.”


I’m glad I got there when I did or I wouldn’t have seen him before he went in and I wouldn’t have gotten to wait with him in the pre-op area.

While I was waiting for the surgery to be over I did something I haven’t done in ages. I did a stream of consciousness thing in my notebook. I used to do this all of the time. I don’t know why I stopped. I’m putting it under the cut because I don’t know how much sense it’s going to make. Read it if you really want to know what was going through my head between about 4pm and 7pm tonight. This is transcribed exactly from my notebook, mistakes and all.

It’s 430 and they took him in for surgery at 345. The doc said the procedure should take an hour baring any complications. He was making jokes right up until I left him. I gave him a kiss and a hug and said, “I’ll see you when you get out.”

He said, “I hope so,” with that smirk he has.

I think I glared at him because I heard the orderly chuckle as I walked out of the room.

I’m sitting in the car right now after a trip to Starbucks waiting for the doc to call me. I hate hospitals. Nothing good has ever happened to me in a hospital.

I told him that I would wait in his room and he gave me this look. He knows me too well to think that I could sit in one place, especially a stuffy hospital room, without getting claustrophobic.

The doc just called to say that everything went fine.

*heavy sigh of relief*

That was quick. Now I have another hour to kill before I see him. Gotta call my folks at let them know.

Made several phone calls. Let everyone know he’s ok. Now I have 50 minutes to kill and I can’t find any WiFi to steal. Sucks. I haven’t written like this with paper and pen in ages.

I really can’t express how relieved I am that this is finally over. Though I won’t feel right until I see him, even if he’s groggy. The doc says once he’s all healed he’ll be able to eat anything he wants again. We have a date to go for pizza.

That was the first thing he said he wanted to do, pizza and ice cream. He hasn’t been able to eat any sort of fat or meat in a year because of this. I am going to have to make sure he moderates it though because his system will not be used to it.

I know how he gets.

4:45 (After a call from mom asking me to pick something up at the store on my way home)

*eye roll*

This is going too slow.

I’ve got a sweet spot in the parking lot and cars keep stopping to see if I’m going to pull out. Sorry guys, not giving this one up just yet.

I’m going to go in in about 15 minutes. I can manage sitting in the room half an hour to wait for him. I just want to see him to reassure myself that he is ok then I’ll leave. I know he’s going to want to sleep and I know if I stay he won’t. He’ll try to stay awake and talk.

I know him too well also.

Sitting in a stuffy hospital room feeling a little claustrophobic. But I know he’ll be here soon so I’m staying put for now. At least the room faces the front of the hospital. Got a great view of the parking lot and Main Street. Good for people-watching.

The sun’s starting to set. I know it’s fall now. Our anniversary is this month, Holloween. Somebody has to remind me to tell the story of how we ended up getting married after 18 years together, and where. It’s a very funny story.

We’ll actually be able to go out and celebrate, now that he doesn’t have to worry about what he eats.

This is so weird writing with pen and paper. I can’t backspace when I make a mistake.

It’s been an hour and a half and I’m still waiting. My mind is starting to mess with me. What if something went wrong? But no one has called me. They know I’m here. They have my number.

Nothing’s wrong. It’s just taking a bit longer to get him back here, I keep telling myself.

I stare at my phone waiting for it to ring. Every time they wheel something down the hall I junp. I wish they’d get here. I wish I could grab some WiFi.

Sis, now I could really use someone to chat with. Didn’t feel very talkative earlier today but the longer I sit here the antsier I’m getting. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

They brought him back at 6. Everything seems fine. I’m just waiting for the nurse to come back with his meds and some water then I’m going to go. I really don’t want to but they won’t let me stay the night.

The nurse just gave him 8mg of morphine. He’s happy now and even more groggy. He’s turned the lights off so I’m writing in the dark. I don’t care. I’m not leaving until I have to. I’m not used to not having him around. We live together, we work together. He’s been my constant companion for 23 years. I’m glad he’s got the lights out so he can’t see I’m starting to cry.

I have to stop writing this now.

That’s where my writing ended. I just sat there holding his hand until they brought in some food, well, jello and Italian ices. He was thrilled though to finally get to eat something. I stayed until they kicked me out at 7:30 when visiting hours ended.

They will probably keep him until Wednesday because his gal bladder was infected and even though it’s gone now, they want to keep him on the IV antibiotics for another day. Of course he had to make one last joke before I left about being laid up in a Catholic hospital during Yom Kippur.

I replied by saying that Jesus was a Jew at which point he told me not to make him laugh.

Well I’ve had more than enough of today. CSI: Miami is on in half an hour then I’m going to collapse.

nighty-night all.

  • Post a new comment


    Comments allowed for friends only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded