The surgery was expected to last 5 hours, but reached 7, and though he went through it with flying colors I most certainly did not. I talked to his mom, my mom, friends, family, I had a moment of laughter, and many moments of tears, when it felt like it just wouldn't end, and even moments where it was so very surreal that I was sure, absolutely positive, that I had some how had an accident and it was really me being operated on. There were two wonderful nurses that checked in with him at hour #6, and the
There is no way to honestly describe just how raw and raped your emotions feel at that moment, how helpless, but thankful you feel, how many times you pray or meditate, feel angry, and tell him, "you better make it through this buddy, because I just can't go on without you." And then the realization that there really is no choice, and no matter what you do, you have no control over the outcome.
And the sigh, when you see a stable heart beat even though he isn't conscious.
The rest, is a blur.... I couldn't tell you who I called let alone who I called twice, how many times I cried, or even what I said to my mother in law as I sprinted around to the door waiting for them to let me see him.
*for the record, blood transfusions make me queasy.
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