Image credit: stillfx / 123RF Stock Photo
There was talking, and waiting, and waiting and talking. A bit of crying (me, of course), a little bit of anger (also me) and questions and decisions to be made. The biggest decision was Ace’s…did he want stents or to do a by-pass. There was an impressive pro/con list for both of them. Stents are easier to put in, the recovery period is MUCH shorter and he’d be back on the job sooner. But, Ace is only 36 and the longevity of stents past 20 or so years is not well known. Most people sitting in his position are in their 70s and 80s. So the chances were good that it would have to be redone later. Bypass is open heart surgery, they cut into your chest, break your breastbone, harvest veins from your chest and your leg, graft them on around the obstruction, sew you the hell backup. Months of recovery. But the long term recovery is much stronger. If he does have a problem later a bypass can still be stented. So he went for that option.
And then he kept having more chest pains, and more nitro drip and more headaches and still no food. He was miserable. Sitting there not being able to fix him, not being able to make him feel better, not being able to hug him a real hug, or snuggle up next to him or even have a conversation with him because he was in so much pain that thinking hurt. And it was COLD as hell in there. He felt sick and broken and I felt helpless. I can only imagine that was similar to how he felt when I was in labor and he couldn’t make the hurt go away. Or when he had to give me shots 2x a day when I was pregnant with T4.
He went into the hospital on Thursday. His surgery was scheduled for Tuesday. They were keeping their eye on him because he kept having pain. They were ready to go if he needed it. I know they are supposed to take an abundance of care and be ready, but it scared me. I really didn’t think he was going to make it until Tuesday without emergency surgery, I was expecting a call saying “we whisked him in to surgery.” I’m really grateful that didn’t come to pass. But really, I was already in a fog. I was just ready for the rest of the world to come crash down on me and have a good jolly laugh.
I got my ducks in a row and on Sunday I brought the kids home to spend the night with me. I missed them. A friend picked them up from Ace’s mom’s house and brought them down to the hospital so they could see Ace. They hadn’t seen him since Wednesday night. They were very excited to see him, however General Tank’s FIRST question was whether or not he could get on the iPad. (uhm, no?) We didn’t stay long, we headed home and tried to make some sort of normal for the night. As much as they can drive me straight up the wall to crazy station, they also calm me. And make me smile. And hug me. Whenever I need it. All three of them just let me be the crying huggy mommy. They knew I was tired, they knew I was worried, they knew I need them to be good. And generally…they were. I still couldn’t sleep.
I am so grateful for my friends who came together to make sure the kids were taken care of. Trina was coming down Monday night to keep me company on Tuesday, the day of Ace’s surgery. And then there was the weather report.
That “5.0” was inches of snow. Thankfully, Trina and her FF were paying attention to the weather report, because I wasn’t. Instead of coming down on Monday night like the original plan, she came down Monday morning. You would think that being in the Midwest our public transportation and commuter train could handle snow, but you would be wrong. So she hopped on the asscrack of dawn train (if that’s not what it says on the schedule, it should) and came down. It was good that she did. Apparently I needed a sidekick more than I was willing to admit. I’m so stubborn.
So my kids were set up, I was set up…let’s roll. I even managed to get him to smile before they wheeled him away.
Letting them take him and not running after him is probably the hardest thing I’ve done.