The more I read posts on blogs or journals belonging to friends, the more I wish I had the time to devote to this that they do.

There are two in particular that I love to read, but they are both people who don't work outside their homes, so that actually helps them find the time. I am certain that if I could find a job not requiring 8+ hours away every day, I would write more.

I also think, they're willing to commit the time. I don't know whether I am, I just wish I could find a way to fit it all in.

so, on with the story.

John returned that Monday for the catheterization. I dropped him off and went to work, and basically fretted and was mostly worthless while I waited for word. He didn't call me until 4:15!! I practically ran to the car, have no real memory of getting to the hospital, and found my way to the heart area.

It was there he told me what was up. He said "how much do you want to know?"

I said, "Everything."

He said "I have to have bypass surgery."

No idea what happened next. I'm sure I cried a little out of shock, and I'm sure he said comforting things, etc. etc. etc. The next thing I remember was a couple of friends coming by to see how he was, and asking me how I was, and the only thing I could say was "I'm a wreck" and laugh nervously. He eventually got assigned a room, and sent me home to check on the cats and find us both some food for dinner. I called everyone I could think of in the short drive home, trying to stay focused on the road (but still have no real memory of the drive).

I got back, we ate, we discussed. He said they were going to try to work him in to the schedule for Tuesday, and if they couldn't, the surgery would be Wednesday morning.

At some point, I went home for the evening. We had discussed my staying there with him, but realized that if I was going to sleep at all, I would sleep better in my own bed.

Sleep was a long time coming. It's a little ridiculous, how much crap there is on after 10 pm.

Next day, I went to work and waited for him to call me to tell me the surgery was coming, and I should leave work then. The call never came; they didn't find room in the schedule. I went up after work, again left at some point to find food, went back up and stayed with him for as long as I could. We knew surgery prep would start early, so we figured what time I should be there.

My phone rang at 4:30 the next morning, it was John saying they had come for surgical prep much earlier than planned, and I should come as soon as I could.

So I did. And, as it turned out, they actually took him away a whopping 20 mintues sooner than they had said.

I don't know who's in charge of those things, but they need to get their shit together.

Letting go of his hand outside the surgical waiting room was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and a moment I'll not forget. I don't cry in front of strangers. Hell, I barely cry in front of John, even after all we've been thru. But there I was, tears streaming down my face in front of what felt like the whole world (and was, in reality, about 3 people), and *trying* to tell him I loved him, and all would be well, and I'd be there the whole time.

It was horrid, and I don't ever want to do it again.

Fortunately, though he struggles a bit with some of the lifestyle and diet changes since surgery, John doesn't want to ever do it again, either.

The hospital at which this all happened has the best staff I've ever seen. During surgeries, they have a chaplain who scrubs in to each room and checks on patients and progress, and then reports to the family members in the waiting room!! It helped *so* much for me, I can't begin to tell you. Eventually, my mom (who lives out of state) sent some friends to sit with me, and that helped a lot, too. I wasn't really thinking of myself at all, so when one of my friends on the phone asked me if I were alone waiting, I said "yeah, but it's okay. The whole world is calling me, I don't feel alone."

thank goodness Mom was thinking of me, too. sometimes they really do know best.

The surgery seemed to go very quickly. They let me in to see him in ICU almost right after, and I left there a bit shaken, but full of joy to just see him again, alive and breathing.

okay, have to go. don't really feel like crying, and am almost there.

blessed be,
L