So Far, So Good.

When my grandpa came out of surgery last night, the doc came out and ushered the posse that was my family into a small triage room and started his update by telling us that my grandfather suffered a stroke during the surgery. Way to open, Doc. He then clarified: it was a small stroke, they don’t believe there will be any lasting effects from it, and that everything else looks great. He said they were able to scrape (OW!) the blockage out of his carotid artery and then patch it back up. I guess the part that was all blocked was the section that leads to the brain. He drew a picture on the white board of the artery structure and what they did, but I wasn’t thinking enough to be the tacky girl taking a picture of it.

Of course, my grandma stopped listening after stroke. She is a worrier, which is why my mom is a worrier which is why my sister is a worrier (I’m a worrier too, but those other three? They are WAY worse than me!). We ventured back into the waiting area to wait for some of the anesthesia to wear off and for the doctor to give us another update. Awhile later, he came back out and said that everything looks good.

Whew.

And it was a relief to see the tears in my grandma’s eyes, knowing she had been hanging on to it since the last time the doctor had talked to us. She was so obviously relieved. (I’m guessing that as a family, we’re gonna have to school these docs on how to present news to my grandmother – good news first, guys, and then if the bad news is really THAT small, BURY THE HELL OUT OF IT inside all that good news).

I ventured home at that point. It had been about six hours of hospital and I was tired and missing my kids. I couldn’t reach Hubby on his cell phone or the landline and I was admittedly a bit freaked out, not knowing if a) The Princess got off the bus where she was supposed to and b) if Hubby remembered to leave work early to pick up The Princess from her friend’s house and Pumpkin from daycare. (My aunt asked, “Do you really think he’d forget?” Short answer: Yes. The man forgets everything). Remember that worrying thing I talked about? Yeah. I was worried about my kiddos.

I was able to reach them as I pulled out of the hospital parking lot and was relieved to hear the kids had been fed (McDonalds: did I call it or what?) and they were heading up to Barnes & Noble so that Stepson could spend some birthday cash in the bookstore. I mosey’d home to my empty house and a bowl of Cheerios for dinner before settling in to get caught up with the work projects that had accumulated while I was sitting in the Surgical Waiting Room.

I stopped when my kids came home and hung out for a bit. I took frequent breaks after that because I was so tired that my attention span was shot and I couldn’t handle long doses of staring at work. I finally wrapped things up sometime around 10:30 or 11 and all but collapsed into bed from sheer exhaustion.

Even today, I still feel tremendously wiped out, but it’s another day and coffee will soon be involved.