Monday monday

The day started at 5:00 a.m. as we bustled (ok, I bustled....Roger lumbered) around the house to leave and get to the hospital for a 6:00 a.m. check-in. Roger was whisked away to get "ready" before I we had much time to settle into the waiting area. He was gone for 30-40 minutes in which they ran tests, took blood and prepped him for surgery.

We were finally invited back to visit with him in his fine hospital gown only to have him whisked away 5 minutes later. I gotta tell you, I felt a tiny - no big - piece of my heart whisked away with him and found the breath stolen from my lungs. I wanted to shout, "no wait, we - I - need a few more minutes with him. But reason prevailed and I kept my mouth shut while a quiet tear or two slipped out of my eyes.

We were 11-12 in number on and off throughout the day. After collecting ourselves, we moved to the surgical waiting area for many too many hours of wait. No amount of TV, trashy magazines, playing solitaire, doing email, or simply staring into space could remove the tension or make any of use rest at ease. We had only been in the waiting area for a short period when we were um..... greeted.....(not really what I call a greeting) by the official Welcome Wagon of surgical patients, the hospital chaplain Sister Mary John who shall be fondly known from this moment forward as either Sister Mary Adolf Hitler, or Sister Mary Nazi. She was a short stout woman (and I can say that because I'm short and stout) with an exceptionally deep voice and a distinct opinion about everything related to this hospital. We later decided, once Sister Mary Adolf left, that she could be used as the model for a character on Saturday Night Live. If I got ONE lecture today, I had at least 2-3 more....Kinda felt like I was in college again at Xavier...I hate being scolded by a nun. I might have been inclined to call her a troll-like character but would not want to damn myself to hell for saying anything less than kind about a nun. So for the record, I am not calling her a troll.

Anyway, Sister Mary Nazi (SMN) barked several rules to us about where to sit, where to go, when to eat, where to eat, what not to eat in the waiting area, how late to stay, etc. She had quite a lasting impression on me as you can see. The sad part is that Roger did not get to experience SMN....I can only imagine what Roger-comments would have come out. :-)

The surgery was expected to last 6 hours or more. We received the call that he was out around 1:30 and that the procedure went really well. Everything looked great. He didn't experience any bleeding. The surgery only ended up taking 5 hours which by every one's account on the hospital staff, including Dr. Freeman, meant that the surgery went well and there were no complications. Upon hearing this, you feel a few of the hundred pounds lifted off your shoulders. Then came another wait until we were able to see him up on the ICU area.

Its all pretty surreal. You see this person lying in bed with hoses and tubes and monitors and machines all around him and you think "that's not my vivacious, lively husband" and yet you know it is somewhere in your mind. You really can't let yourself "go" for fear that the raw emotion hiding under the surface will suffocate you. When I saw him for the first time, I was rendered speechless for a moment. He suddenly seemed too frail to touch - so likely to break - yet all you wanted to do was lay hands on and make sure that he was real and alive.

He was in considerable pain this afternoon, as anyone would expect. However the pain was in his shoulder, shoulder blade and neck area. We suspect its because he had his arm up over his head as they worked on the right side of his body. Several adjustments of pain meds and anti-inflammatories, several adjustments of pillows and bed height, and several massages later and the pain seems to have decreased slightly. He's been able to sleep on and off through out the afternoon and evening.

Fast forward to now. Its past 1o:30 pm. The hospital has grown quiet. The crowds have left. The night nursing staff seems much quieter than the day nursing staff was. The traffic to the various patients' rooms has died down. Its finally quiet and I feel like I can almost think. I'm here in Roger's room sitting next to his bed. He was been awake with me for the last 15 minutes or so. There's not much conversation. A word or two here or there. An adjustment of the bed or his pillows but otherwise just peace and quiet. As I sit here in the dark and reflect on the day and look at Roger over the top of the laptop screen, I am reminded again (not that I ever forgot) how much I love him. We all need to remember how much we love our "person" and our "people".

Despite being drugged up and feeling terrible a couple little jokes still slipped out of him during the last nurse-visit and he managed to tease the nurses a little. The nurses have been checking his vitals, making sure his body is draining all fluids, and monitoring the pain. They have also been coming in to get him to do different breathing exercises. He is supposed to do these hourly when awake. I'm proud to say that he is doing these on his own without provocation by the nurses or me. It makes me smile. He wants to get well and get out of here. He's been bending his arms trying to get the "kinks" out and get the stiffness out and generally get the blood flowing. He's truly remarkable.

Ok - I may just have to take back all the nice thoughts I've had for him. This LITERALLY JUST happened: I just looked up at Roger and he was sucking in air and had his eyes bugged out. I practically threw the computer while jumping up out of the chair only to hear him say, "ha, I was just testing you. Good reflects. Nice respond time" as he chuckled to himself. WHAT!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I have informed him that he can save these moments of levity for the nurses as I didn't need my heart to stop. Funny guy. Really funny guy.

I took pictures tonight but don't want to dig through all my bags to get the camera out. I'll post them tomorrow. The photos may be a little startling so please be forewarned but also remember, he's amazing and is going to be the rockstar of patients recovering.

As he has phased back into unconsciousness, and my heart rate has begun to return to normal I'm going to sign off for now. I'm going to look for a quiet corner to get some sleep. More tomorrow and the days to come. We sending good thoughts and love back to all of you. Thanks for keeping my darling husband in your prayers. Angie