16 hours. That's how long the surgery was. Thank God for my daughter and my best friend. They would not allow me to face those 16 hours alone and, like angels appearing out of the heavens, they arrived with their support, prayers, hands to hold and love.
I spoke with the surgeon, the plastic surgeon and the OR nurse numerous times. Even the anesthesiologist called with updates. "Your husband is a trooper," they all said. "He's doing just fine."
Somewhere around 8pm we were informed the surgical waiting room was closing and we needed to leave the area. The 3 of us just started to laugh - my husband is in surgery, he no longer has a hospital room we can wait in (they will assign him a new one after the recovery room) and surgery is not done. We are now "homeless" in the hospital.
I didn't realize I carried so much stuff around until we began grabbing, pocketbooks, tote bags,reading materials and my laptop. We looked like vagabonds preparing to find a campsite!
After much discussion we were finally directed to a waiting room (campground?) on another floor with assurances we would be found when surgery was finished. What is the saying "Famous Last Words?" It was like an episode of The Keystone Cops - the doctor on one floor, us on another, me calling the doctor as the doctor is trying to call me - nurses directing us to a staging area, the nurse at that area sending us somewhere else. Even as it was happening it was just plain funny!!! Thank God for humor.
We run into the surgical nurse on our way to yet another area and are taken to the ICU. George is out of surgery and I will be able to see him shortly.
Relief washes over me and I am so glad my ladies have stayed with me through this. They are the foundation of my support system. They wipe away the tears as I laugh and cry- so glad this is over, so happy he is going to be ok. They are both given permission to enter ICU with me and the three of us follow George's nurse through the door and into my new world.