Diary of a Waiting Room Wife

11:30am Saturday

First we'll get the background out of the way.

R went into the ER around 10am on Friday. Diagnosis: ga.llstones. A bunch of them, big as marbles. IV, medications, and finally a surgery consult around 4pm. They thought his pain was under control and that he'd be able to ride it out with Vic.odin till Monday, so they let him go home around 5pm. Their pain meds wore off around 8pm and he took his first pill. By 9:30 he was in pain again, and by 10pm it was severe enough that he wanted to come back to the hospital. New doc, this one very much more attentive (checked on him every half hour at least, the one in the morning came twice in 6 hours), but not very proactive. We had to request the surgeon come back down, the doc kinda wanted to send him back home again. The surgeon came in, said hi, palpated his abdomen, and pretty much immediately admitted him. The surgeon ordered more meds (R had gotten two doses of De.merol within the first hour we were there, with no relief at all). Those meds were great (if I remember what it was, I'll let you know). R finally got his room upstairs around 4am, all the paperwork and questions were done around 5. I went home, made a couple phone calls (my dad is always up that early), brought the dog into our bedroom (she shares a room with Little H, but I love sleeping with her when R is away), and tried to get some sleep. My alarm went off at 8am, I cursed and turned it off, then went back to sleep for a little while. I woke up again at 8:30 and started making the rest of the morning's phone calls: R's grandma (she raised him), R's mom, my parents again, R's boss/pastor. I gave them the phone number here and his room number and told them to sit tight until we saw the surgeon this morning.

Fast forward past my breakfast and bank card fiasco at the gas station (damn thing stopped working, it worked at BK, then right across the street it wouldn't do anything, not even in their A.TM).

I finally got back to the hospital around 10am. Still hadn't seen the surgeon this morning, but he was doped up on pain meds pretty well. I checked with the nurses to see if there was any idea when the surgeon would show up and how he did overnight (in the 4 1/2 hours I was gone). Half an hour later the surgeon came in, palpated again, and scheduled the surgery. The surgeon had another surgery that was more urgent to do first, so R is scheduled to go in sometime between 2-3pm. R asked for his bible, which I had forgotten when I came in, so I ran home to get it and made another round of phone calls. My mom asked if I needed her, because she could tell I hadn't had any sort of emotional reaction to this yet. I told her no. Called Grandma, R's mom, R's aunt, R's boss. Called mom back and asked her to come up, I think I'll need her later (damn her, I hadn't even thought about being worried or nervous or upset in any way until she suggested it). R's grandma is on her way, too. I got back here again and R's boss and his wife were on their way out (I had left them a message). They let me know that he had just requested something for nausea and was pretty much out of it again. We hugged (which was nice, because there was a lot of drama with them during that whole possible divorce fiasco), and they said to let them know how things go and call if I need anything.

So here we are, now 11:45am, R's out cold, I'm watching the Ja.ckie Ch.an cartoon (because that's the channel R had it on) and writing this all out in wor.dpad (somebody's husband still hasn't installed Office on her laptop). I don't know when I'm going to break, but, now that I know I should, I know I will. I'd spent the entire time in only the clinical mindset, reverting back to my paramedic training and seeing only the clinical aspect and not the personal one. I kept track of his meds and pain, I was his constant bedside nurse. My mom is expecting me to burst when he gets out of the OR, when it's over and I know he's safe and better and I don't have to be strong anymore. I don't know what I would have done, but now that she has suggested it I can't think of anything else. It's like I'm preparing myself for my own breakdown, trying to figure out how I'm going to be strong when I stop being strong. I am so glad my mom is coming, she is my comfort and my rock and I'm going to need that. I can't break down alone, I have to know that somebody is here to take care of him and take care of me first. I won't allow any emotions until I know it won't effect him, so if my mom weren't coming anything that I'm "not" feeling would never come out. I think her coming is a good thing.