The Sick List, Near Philadelphia

After a summer that was consumed by more kinds of medical testing than most of us have ever heard of, it turned out that my big-hearted husband was also a sick-hearted husband. And something needed to be done. Surgery, it turned out, wasn't an option; it was required. We were told that of patients with Joe's condition, if they didn't have the operation, fifty percent would be dead within a year. We quickly signed on the dotted line.

Thursday was the day. 

Our report time was 5:30 a.m. for surgery scheduled at 7:00. So we set the alarm for 4:45 but both of us were awake well before that. "We ride at before dawn" came to mind as I drove all the way to the hospital without seeing another car. 

It turned out that 7:00 amounted to a nice idea and Joe was finally taken back to the OR at 7:45. I went down to the cafeteria for a light breakfast and on my way out of the cafeteria I literally bumped into the woman who had been my supervisor when I worked at the hospital. I took that as a good omen. After asking and finding out what I was doing there, she told me firmly who the nurse manager was for the floor that my patient would be going to, and offered to run interference if we encountered any problems.

The surgical waiting area at our hospital is superb. It is spacious, relatively quiet, and laid out in such a way that family groups have the illusion of a bit of privacy. As I looked around for my spot for the day, I saw a woman crocheting and decided she represented the needlework section and sat not far away. It was going to be a long day.

The crocheter had a massive ball of thick pink yarn and was working on a kitty. As the day progressed, she made a litter of kittens and then an octopus and a pig and finally a snake. The snake was the best. I settled in to piece itsy-bitsy sawtooth stars for Merricks and some of the sixty-four border blocks I'll need for Pick A Petal. I came well prepared. 

At around ten o'clock my sister appeared. She visited for an hour and left me a bag lunch because she knew I would be reluctant to go back to the cafeteria because the surgeon had said he'd come out to see me around twelve or one. It was the best liverwurst sandwich I ever had.

True to his word, the doctor appeared at one and said that I would be able to see Joe a little after three. Rather than sit there alone -- my new friend's mom's knee replacement had concluded -- I went home and took a big nap and returned around 4:00. We live perhaps two miles from the hospital, so that's been a plus.

The surgery was one of the big ones, and my patient is in the ICU where he seems to be both behaving and progressing. The nurses there are wonderful; the daytime one calls him "Sweetie" and the nighttime nurse calls him "Love." Andrew opines that they need to get to know him a little better. I go over once or twice a day and stay for an hour at a time. I expect that he'll be coming home in a few days and that the hospital's social services department will provide us with helpers for a bit. 

Lizzy's gone to stay with Sherry for a few weeks and our sons are coming up from Virginia to each spend a night this weekend. Family, friends and neighbors have been supportive and helpful. The pastor visited on the night of the surgery. My caterer-neighbor just left and my fridge is no longer empty.  It's "one of those times" and we'll get through it. We're facing a lengthy recovery and fortunately our home is well-configured for a surgical recovery. We have much to be thankful for.