Tomorrow is the big day: my mom’s surgery is at 9. (It was scheduled for 6:45, which meant getting there at 5 a.m., but the hospital moved it out two hours. This may be proof that at least one deity actually exists; evidence is being examined.) Mom has been pretty sanguine about the whole thing. Her main frustration has been that it’s been slightly over two months between when they told her she needed this surgery and the time the surgery was scheduled, with several delays at tantalizing moments. But she has reported no fear or nervousness about the surgery itself up till now, though I have to say that if anyone was at all inclined to any bit of anxiety over a surgery, the night before would be the time for it to happen. Hell, I’m anxious, and they’re not cutting me open in two places tomorrow, taking a little bit from one part and attaching it to actual arteries that lead to my heart in three places. Um, sorry, excuse me for that bit, where did the Valium go?
Oh, and if you happen to be, say, a cousin who didn’t know this was happening? Um, well, sorry. I’m socially awkward in spots, y’know. Anyway….
Tomorrow will be a long day at the hospital, and Thursday might be too. I’ve scheduled two days off work (add asterisk here; I’ll have my work laptop with me). The thing is, after this surgery, the patient routinely goes to the intensive care unit, or some similarly named unit, and it seems that when a loved one is in ICU, one’s place is at the hospital… only it’s a routine thing, and she won’t stay there more than a day (fingers crossed here). Plus, one can’t really visit someone in ICU much; nurses frown on that, and when ICU nurses frown it means something. So, I’m not sure what my Thursday will be like, but I just didn’t see being 20 miles away in an office all day. They understand.
My mom has people praying for her. Well, that’s what they’ve said, in some cases several times. (No one has actually dropped to his/her knees in front of her yet. That might be awkward.) My mom is a believer, but has always been skittish about the actual practices, so people saying “I’ll pray for you!” makes her kind of uneasy, yet she appreciates the prayers as she’d like to have Someone on her side at a time like this. Me, I just express my appreciation and convey my mom’s appreciation, which is genuine and has allowed me so far to skirt the issue of whether I believe I need prayer, something I’d rather not have come up at a time like this. Certainly, people praying does no harm.
Anyway, I’ll end this rambly thing. I try not to worry, since my worry does no one any good. In fact, nothing I do does anyone any good here, largely because I chose a liberal arts degree from college instead of anything useful like, say, medicine. All I can do is drive Mom to the hospital tomorrow, and wait, and hope for the best. It’s not the 1970s when they were still trying to figure out how this bypass thing works; she has a doctor with a fine reputation and a good team in a nationally noted hospital. Things will be fine.