Because we wrote extensively about Paul’s cancer and surgery in 2004, I can go back and read what I was thinking and feeling then. But I don’t have to read the old blog to remember the hours I spent waiting (and worrying and hoping) while Paul was in the operating room. It was – literally and figuratively – one of the longest days of my life. However, the caring and support I felt from family and friends enabled me to get through the day more easily and calmly than I had imagined possible.
In less than twelve hours, I get to do it again. And I would love your company while I wait.
Like the last time, I’ll be at the UW Medical Center tomorrow from 5:15 am (when Paul checks in) until some time in the evening (about 9:30 pm in 2004) that he’s moved from recovery to the ICU and I can see him and hold his hand for a while before going home. For most of those 16+/- hours, I’ll be in the surgical waiting room.
Please drop by, if you have time. Bring a hug, and a good story. (In 2004, I asked for chocolate, and had enough at the end of the day to last for Paul’s entire hospital stay. This time, I’m bringing the Hershey’s kisses that Paul’s sister Vanessa sent us, and the dark chocolate-covered macadamia nuts we brought back from our quick getaway to Hawai’i, so we may have enough.) Meet my mother, if you haven’t before. (Last time around, I wrote, “Meet my parents.” I’m so glad Mom is here… and I am missing my Dad something fierce.) Let me beat you at a game of Qwirkle. If the weather is like today’s (which it’s forecast to be), join me for a brisk walk in the sunshine. Stay as long as you like.
(Because I’ve done this before, I copied the directions to the surgical waiting room from the last time. However, I couldn’t keep myself from editing them. Anyway, the surgical waiting room is on the 2nd floor, off a long passageway that connects the main building and the surgical pavilion. If you come in the main hospital entrance, turn left and go to the Cascade elevators. As sometimes happens in buildings built into hillsides, the main entrance is on the 3rd floor, so take the elevator down to 2. When you get off the elevator, turn left, then turn right at the corridor. You’ll see the waiting room on your right. If you park in the surgical pavilion garage, take the elevator to the 2nd floor. When you get off the elevator; you’ll see the skybridge to the main building. Walk that way; the door will be on your left.)
If you’re far away, or have a full day planned, or just can’t bear hospitals, I understand. (There are days when I can’t bear hospitals, either.) I’ll have my phone, my laptop and a wifi connection, so you can call or text or email me if you want to check in any time during the day.
Whether delivered in person, telephonically, electronically, or through the vibe-o-sphere, I’m counting on your love, good thoughts and well wishes to help me get through the day.
Love, check. Good thoughts, check. Well wishes, check. Sending them all your way.
Glad to hear the kisses with help the cause! I will be eating some here in KY as act of support… Oh the sacrifice! Will be thinking of you, your mother and all your friends throughout the day. Thanks for taking such care of Paul. Hugs!
Love you both so much. Am sending best wishes. Will call.
I do wish I was in the neighborhood to be able to drop by. I am glad your Mom is there with you…and glad you have an electronic connection with the outside world.
It is already that day here on the east coast and I am already sending you both positive energy, healing vibes and much love…
Sending love and prayers for healing.
Love, good thoughts and well wishes coming your way from me and Jim all day. So glad your mom is there. Give each other hugs from me. Will check again later.
Kimberly — I wish you as peaceful and quick a day as possible. Waiting is horrible, but I hope that you have great news at the end.
Paul — All my thoughts are with you for a speedy and full recovery.