So after waking at 4:30 am to leave at 5 am to be at the hospital at 6 am…I’m tired already and I am not even the one getting surgery.
The first thing I notice…the hospital has changed again…regardless whether one year has passed or 3, seems I’m always walking into a new hospital, although I could not tell you what the old one looked like.
Second thing I noticed was the age worn non smiling receptionist who has no doubt been doing her job for way too long. Her demeanor is mecanized, no longer feeling any empathy for patients or family.
The nurse has come out with her roll out tray in our waiting room…gave us the facts. 1 hour for surgery…2 hours recovery and maybe another couple hours after that.
She actually says…say your goodbyes and kisses and come with me. So I kiss my husband and watch him disappear behind the swinging doors.
3 hours or 5…I watch other loved ones or companions disappear from the waiting room. I am still here actually the only one who stays. Does that make me better or dumber than the rest? Who knows. I just feel better being near him.
See he is my life. I should not think that way since we should all be our own people. However we became one person at one point before the trend of being separate became popular. We think the same…stress the same. I know he would probably be downstairs getting coffee…probably just to move so his worry could feel better.
It’s 7:10 am and I know he is getting operated on at 8 am. I don’t know why they don’t let you keep your loved ones company until they go into surgery…you know hold their hands…give them kissies.
Well the nurse is out again talking to the fresh patients coming in.
“Hi I’m Nathalie…your surgery will take…and recovery will be…blah blah…”
7:17 am …Bathroom time…Of course someone has to not only try the handle but push hard on the door…first time I dawdle in the bathroom…who cares I have time to kill. I look in the mirror and see that my face is telling me. You should have slept another 3 hours to at least start looking human and not over 60 this morning.
7:20 am…going on the 1st floor to find what my husband informed me was the slowest Timmies. I make my way down and notice the sun is up…its daylight.
I get up to the cash and ask for a sourglazed donut. The cashier looks like I asked her for plutonium. I look at her shirt and realize she is new. Great. She takes my cash and hands me back the change and never says thank you or have a good day. It seems normal to her. I find the wheelchairs near the door where I will need one to bring hubby to the front door later.
I turn to see a sign saying. No violence, no latex, no perfumes. Only then do I realize that this hospital smells of BO. Really really bad. Downstairs is worse so I make my way back upstairs.
7:52 am…he should be going to surgery very soon…I see the doors open and a woman on a gurney getting wheeled out. No doubt for surgery…then I wonder if hubby came out those doors and hope I didn’t miss him.
Oh here comes Nathalie with her cart and spiel….its gonna be a long day.
I have posted to Facebook to get a prayer chain of good intent going…its never a bad thing to try to stack the deck in your favor, although the more I live, the more I believe we are a bit like unknowing subjects wandering aimlessly. At least that is what I am looking at in these faces. No one knowing of the grand plan but hoping there is one and that they are part of it.
8:08 am…do I think of him…meditate…I get a moment of thought getting an image of them cutting up my partner and quickly dismiss it. 3 or 5 hours…as more people come in…the BO smell is catching up to the 2nd floor. No perfume does not mean don’t wash…makes one wonder.
9:02 am…if all went well, he should be done by now….waking up…or trying to…not too sure…already been here 3 hours…amazing.
Not too sure when they come to get you…but thinking no less than 2 hours…
9:54 am…no news…maybe another hour…surgeons that I see coming out of surgery have a timmies coffee in their hands and are in packs of 3 like they are coming out of a coffee shop in full intellectual conversation…which makes me question…where the hell is there a coffee house in the operating room and do they know what a sour glazed is?
10:19 am…looking out the window I wonder if there is any reason the building looks like a prison facility or an old school…who designed these eyesores anyways…
10:30 am…wondering if I shove 2 mints up my nose if I can possibly get rid of the Body Odor smell permeating this space…
11 am…asked the nurse if I needed to go get a wheelchair from BO land…she’s gonna check….well the good news should be that another couple hours at the worst…
Spoke with 2 ladies from Pembroke….they seemed nice…lasted 2 minutes although not really with me…must be my non makeup screwed up hair….hey what can I say.
12pm…no word yet and I’m now convinced that they have harvested his organs and selling them on the black market and I will never see him again…
1 pm…I’ve gone downstairs to get a wheelchair…and the nurse 5 minutes later calls me in to go get the hubby…I wheel in and immediately recognize toes in socks from under the curtain trying to squeeze into running shoes…for whatever parts they sold they did not take his feet…
1:15 pm…..time to run the obstacle course that is the main hall…dodging mostly people struggling with parking meters in and out of the hospital…older generations and language barriers being a factor…after more minutes than were actually needed…we make our way back home.
All patched up…he is now walking around the yard…oh man…now comes the hard part…getting the guy to rest up and heal…if this is any indication…its going to be a long couple of weeks!
And so ends my 10 hours…on to greater things like combing my hair…