The morning of the operation we had to be at the hospital at 5:30 am. Even though we had preregistered there was a back up at check in at that early hour. Several others waited in the lobby for their names to be called before it was our turn. There were carry on bags and suitcases in seats and on the floor and you might even think you were in an airport rather than a hospital. Looking at the couples I tried to imagine which one was there for the trip and which was there to wait. It was easy to guess with some of them as one had a small suitcase at their feet and the other had a cloth bag with a magazine or book poking out of the top like mine. With other couples it was hard to tell as they both wore the same non-committal stare. Some people were alone and when their name was called they wheeled their little suitcase up to the cubicle and sat down to verify their insurance, etc. I wondered what medical procedure they were there for and if they would be alone for their entire journey.
We were assigned a pre-surgical suite on the second floor where we would wait until Buz was taken down to surgery. It looked like a normal hospital room with a bed and small private bathroom. There was a TV but no remote that I could find. Nurse Teri came into the room humming, Somewhere Over the Rainbow and told Buz he could change into the gown on the bed. She left and after he had changed I tied up the ties in the back and placed his clothes in the bags Teri had provided. Soon afterward a tech showed up to take his blood.
Teri came in again, this time humming, Off We Go Into the Wild Blue Yonder and Buz and I smiled at each other. I wondered if she had an entire repertoire that she carefully planned before arriving each morning and if they were all songs about the sky or taking flight. Perhaps she had a son or daughter who was a pilot or in the Air Force. We shared a few laughs as she wrestled stockings on Buz's feet- the tight white ones that they make surgical patients wear to improve circulation and prevent blood clots from forming. "Wow, you have large feet. Glad I didn't grab the medium size." He would have to wear these socks for a few weeks after surgery and she gave me a sheet of washing instructions. I made a mental note to try sprinkling his feet with baby powder to see if it made putting them on any easier.
She left us alone and the silence was deafening. This is the time when you chat about the kids and their jobs or the fact that the snow will be all gone soon…normal things to help you to pretend you are sitting in a cozy cafe sipping Chai tea rather than being in a fluorescent lit sterile environment waiting for a four to five hour surgery.
The room had a track on the ceiling where a curtain could be moved to shield the bed. We reminisced about the Seinfeld episode when George's mother was in the hospital and George witnessed a shapely nurse giving the patient in the adjacent bed a sponge bath- all in silhouette on the drawn curtain. I said we could try to reenact the scene after his surgery. He said two nurses would be nice and we laughed.
The waiting was awful and mercifully a nurse arrived soon to wheel him (on his bed) to the elevator that would take him down to surgery. She placed an extra blanket over him and tucked it in. It reminded me of how the nurses gently wrapped our babies in their blankets after they were born, all snug and secure. I leaned over and kissed him, told him I loved him and would see him in a few hours and then walked beside the bed until she wheeled him onto the elevator. He was totally silent and I correctly assumed it was because he was struggling to hold it together. Surprisingly, I felt very strong and calm and I tried to send him those positive vibes.
After running to the car with his clothes I went to the waiting room on the second floor adjacent to the pre-op suites where we had been. My parents were going to join me in a few hours but for now I was the only one in the room. I wondered where the other waiting spouses from check-in were.
I had anticipated that once Buz was out of sight and reality had set in I might lose it and this is why I wanted to be alone at this time but the strong, calm feeling held. I sat where I could see both the clock and the nurse's station. No reclining seats with drop down trays and no in-flight movie to distract me though there was a TV.
Nurse Teri was busy down the corridor with new patients but smiled and waved when she caught my eye. I couldn't hear her humming her songs but didn't need to as they had become earworms, floating in my head. Music is an important part of Buz's life and I wondered if he was experiencing those same songs or if in his slumber he was being serenaded by Lambchop, Porcupine Tree and Elbow.
Between surgery prep, the operation and recovery it would be about seven hours before I could see him again. I could have used one of those little blue blankets they used to hand out on long flights and maybe a travel pillow as it had been a very short night. A few warm chocolate chip cookies that Midwest serves would have been okay, too since I had skipped breakfast. I took a mindless mystery novel out of my bag, not sure if I could concentrate enough to read it and began my wait.
We were assigned a pre-surgical suite on the second floor where we would wait until Buz was taken down to surgery. It looked like a normal hospital room with a bed and small private bathroom. There was a TV but no remote that I could find. Nurse Teri came into the room humming, Somewhere Over the Rainbow and told Buz he could change into the gown on the bed. She left and after he had changed I tied up the ties in the back and placed his clothes in the bags Teri had provided. Soon afterward a tech showed up to take his blood.
Teri came in again, this time humming, Off We Go Into the Wild Blue Yonder and Buz and I smiled at each other. I wondered if she had an entire repertoire that she carefully planned before arriving each morning and if they were all songs about the sky or taking flight. Perhaps she had a son or daughter who was a pilot or in the Air Force. We shared a few laughs as she wrestled stockings on Buz's feet- the tight white ones that they make surgical patients wear to improve circulation and prevent blood clots from forming. "Wow, you have large feet. Glad I didn't grab the medium size." He would have to wear these socks for a few weeks after surgery and she gave me a sheet of washing instructions. I made a mental note to try sprinkling his feet with baby powder to see if it made putting them on any easier.
She left us alone and the silence was deafening. This is the time when you chat about the kids and their jobs or the fact that the snow will be all gone soon…normal things to help you to pretend you are sitting in a cozy cafe sipping Chai tea rather than being in a fluorescent lit sterile environment waiting for a four to five hour surgery.
The room had a track on the ceiling where a curtain could be moved to shield the bed. We reminisced about the Seinfeld episode when George's mother was in the hospital and George witnessed a shapely nurse giving the patient in the adjacent bed a sponge bath- all in silhouette on the drawn curtain. I said we could try to reenact the scene after his surgery. He said two nurses would be nice and we laughed.
The waiting was awful and mercifully a nurse arrived soon to wheel him (on his bed) to the elevator that would take him down to surgery. She placed an extra blanket over him and tucked it in. It reminded me of how the nurses gently wrapped our babies in their blankets after they were born, all snug and secure. I leaned over and kissed him, told him I loved him and would see him in a few hours and then walked beside the bed until she wheeled him onto the elevator. He was totally silent and I correctly assumed it was because he was struggling to hold it together. Surprisingly, I felt very strong and calm and I tried to send him those positive vibes.
After running to the car with his clothes I went to the waiting room on the second floor adjacent to the pre-op suites where we had been. My parents were going to join me in a few hours but for now I was the only one in the room. I wondered where the other waiting spouses from check-in were.
I had anticipated that once Buz was out of sight and reality had set in I might lose it and this is why I wanted to be alone at this time but the strong, calm feeling held. I sat where I could see both the clock and the nurse's station. No reclining seats with drop down trays and no in-flight movie to distract me though there was a TV.
Nurse Teri was busy down the corridor with new patients but smiled and waved when she caught my eye. I couldn't hear her humming her songs but didn't need to as they had become earworms, floating in my head. Music is an important part of Buz's life and I wondered if he was experiencing those same songs or if in his slumber he was being serenaded by Lambchop, Porcupine Tree and Elbow.
Between surgery prep, the operation and recovery it would be about seven hours before I could see him again. I could have used one of those little blue blankets they used to hand out on long flights and maybe a travel pillow as it had been a very short night. A few warm chocolate chip cookies that Midwest serves would have been okay, too since I had skipped breakfast. I took a mindless mystery novel out of my bag, not sure if I could concentrate enough to read it and began my wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment