Long Distance Surgery

I just got home from dropping my husband off for knee replacement surgery. It’s a really weird feeling. As we all know by now, I’m old-school. I come from a time (far, far away), when you stayed in the hospital waiting room during your loved one’s procedure. If you were experienced at this, you brought a book, drinks and snacks--unless you were okay with the lone vending machine full of candy--a crocheting project, and—if you knew ahead of time that it could be long, a pillow.

It wasn’t fun, but you were there. You could find someone to ask for an update. Sometimes. And the surgeon actually came and spoke to you when it was all over. Yes, I get a phone call these days, but I’m happier when I can see the expression on his face and read his body language. (I know the surgeon us a “he” in this case.)

This isn’t my first time on this merry-go-round. A few months ago, this same husband had back surgery. The process was basically the same, except the hospital was 10 minutes away. That’s driving time, of course. Navigating the parking garage and the labyrinthine hallways that seem to exist in all modern hospitals, can easily take another 30 minutes.

But this time, he’s in a hospital I’m not familiar with that is considerably more than 10 minutes away. The GPS says it’s 30 minutes with usual traffic. As far as I can figure out, that refers to 2:00-3:00 AM, Monday through Thursday. I do love a GPS with a sense of humor. All other times the roads are jammed from heavy traffic, road repair, bad weather, and the occasional accident or stalled semi.

I eventually made peace with waiting at home. I found little jobs to do to keep myself distracted. The surgeon called and said it had gone well, no problems, and the nurse would call when he was in his room and I could see him.    

Obviously, I wasn't going to wait that long. I did my own calculations and decided to drive back before rush hour, figuring that should be close to the time he’d be settled. So I got to the main waiting room and waited. And waited. And just as I was thinking terrible thoughts, the nurse called. He’d be in his room in about 30 minutes. A mere 50 minutes later they called and said he was on his way. I went up to the room I was told and got there first.

The delay was that they’d had to wait for an open room, and PT and OT actually had him up and doing things down in recovery. I think that was a little pushy, but he looked great and sounded great and said he had very little pain.

This all started on Tuesday. He came home this morning and we’re settling into this temporary normal. But, for the most part, al is well in our little world again. Big exhale.