The time was 9:48 am. I was in the peanut butter row at King Soopers. I was blazing through the grocery list, thinking of Christmas cookies and pretzel stuffing. I was in grocery zone. The phone rang. Dad's doctor. What a roller coaster. Another turn for the worse. We talked. The decision is for surgery. Doctor thought late today or maybe tomorrow. He promised to call me back with a time frame so that I could plan appropriately.
At 9:53, I called MOTH with a report. I did the next two rows with a faster spring in my step.
At 9:57, dad's doctor called. This phrase will stop you in your tracks and make a four pack of yogurt hover in mid-air. "Actually, we're clear from the anesthesiologist and we're gonna take him to the OR within the next 30 minutes."
It is now 9:56 pm. Really? It's only been 12 hours? Because the list of things I have done in the last twelve hours is massive. It starts with groceries and saving $112 in coupons and saver cards. In the middle is a commute to the hospital, a couple hours of waiting, a Christmas movie on ABC family, and a really bad cup of coffee. There was a report from the doctor that went like this, "Wow. That was one of THE worst bowel obstructions I have seen in my career." He ended up in surgery for almost 3 1/2 hours. What started as a laprascopic surgery ended with an open gut. When the surgeon finally closed, it was without 70-some-odd centimeters of small bowel, which he reported was "in too terrible of condition to be useful. It was riddled with holes and stuck to itself, twisted and knotted . . just in terrible shape."
Exhale. Big, long, hearty exhale.
My 92-year-old dad is one of the toughest old geezers I know. He held my hand for a few minutes as he dozed in and out. He made it though a massive surgery today. He actually looks better than yesterday, and I'm thankful that the road to recovery starts today.
Once home, I had dinner with my kids, made a poster for Grandpa's room and prepped dough for sugar cookies and pumpkin pie crust. After all, the show must go on. Santa comes in only "one more sleep", says Mimi.
But, Lawd, what a day. What a long, long, long day. I'm taking motrin and a heating pad to bed with me. Right. Now.