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Okay, 4th time in a surgery waiting room in 13 months.  It is one of the worst places to wait.  Whomever said misery loves company was absolutely wrong.  Today is even worse as I wait because the room is packed and the angst on the faces of the family just put a damper on my mood.  People are talking loudly on the phone, sobbing uncontrollably, pacing over the zig zag rug pattern, or even joking with each other.  Emotions run high and all of these people are just coping with their fear and worries with different strategies.  Me?  I’m here blogging this as two people argue over what we should all watch on the television.   I think we are settling on re-runs of Friends.  Appropriate, I guess.

Maybe my wife and are used to this or maybe even numb as we had to somehow already get through the day until her 4:30 surgery.  Not as difficult as her past 3 surgeries I think my wife and I are  good at distracting ourselves.  I came home to find my wife had baked blueberry and muffins for our kids, planned out the pick-up schedule after school for the week and arranged a couple play dates.  My mother and I looked at each other and chuckled.  My own mother who had breast cancer told my wife she is probably the only person on this planet who baked before her mastoplexy on an empty stomach.

This never is easy though.  My wife’s doctors always give me a time that is less than it is.  A 6 hour surgery turns into 8, a 7 hour surgery turns into 9, a 2 hour surgery turns into 5 and already today’s one hour surgery is over 2 hours old.  Every time the double doors to the surgery room open, everyone jumps up with an expectation it is their surgeon.  I think sitting here alone with my computer is the best thing.  Most of the anger is geared towards other family members about getting something to eat or drink.

It does make me appreciate my wife though more and more each time.  These hours alone make you appreciate what you love about that person in the operating room.  It isn’t just about hoping that they get out out the surgery okay, but about how much you love them, what they do for you, what you want to do with them and more.  As I left for the hospital I thought I’d confess to my son that his mom was having surgery.  He knew and I told him his mother would be okay.  He casually said, “I figured”.    I wanted to hug him but he just smiled and went up to do his homework.  If he only knew how worried his dad is about his mother.

Well, I don’t think I can wait much longer.  I need to go eat and move my car out of the garage….oops there she goes off to the recovery room.  Doctor said she is good.  Time to get dinner! Gotta get out of this depression chamber.

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