Sixty's Surgery: Part 1

Sixty had surgery on Friday.

I jumped out of bed about 5 a.m. so I could be at the hospital when he and his mother checked in at 5:45.

Needless to say, I was a little late. Damn. I am not an early riser. Ugh.

So about 6 a.m., I trotted into the hospital registration area and asked if Sixty had registered yet. They told me that he had, and then told me where I needed to go. Coffee for his mom and myself in hand, I found the waiting area.

Sure enough, there they sat. Sixty stood up and engulfed me in a hug. I could tell he was nervous. He had insisted the night before that I didn't have to come. "If you've got too much going on at work, you don't need to come," he said. "This surgery's not the big of a deal, you know." I told him not to be rediculous; I would be there.

They took him back to take blood and vitals while his mother and I sat and chatted. A few minutes later, they told us we could come back to the holding room. There lay the poor guy in a paper gown and gauze cap. I tried my hardest to keep him entertained and his mind off the surgery. So did his mom. I hope it worked.

At 8:30, the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and a nurse all came to talk to him, and he was ready to be rolled into surgery. They said he probably would get to come home right after the surgery, but if not, they'd keep him overnight for observation. I hoped he got to go home.

Sixty motioned to his mother for a hug. I stepped back and let them have a moment. I fought back tears. I just stood there, looking at the poor guy. He motioned to me for a hug. "Don't act like you don't want one," he said. Again, I fought back tears. "You'll do just fine," I said, kissing his cheek. Off he went.

This is the weird thing about it all. As worried as I was about Sixty, somehow having his mother to talk with while he was in surgery made it better. She is such a super lady. She talked all about Sixty's two brothers, what Sixty was like when he was younger, how she and her husband met. She was just a delight.

About 3 hours later, the nurse came and got us. "He's in a lot more pain than we thought he would be, ladies," she said. "We're going to try and get that under control, but in the meantime, you're welcome to come up and see him in his room. Because the pain is so bad, I think we're going to go ahead and keep him overnight." My heart just broke for him. He had wanted to come home so badly.

We walked up to his room, and he laying there, grimicing. The first thing he did was croak out, "Hi guys" as the nurse was taking his vitals. He looked really good, except you could tell he was in a lot of pain. His mother stepped to the side of the room to make some phone calls to family members. As she was doing so, the nurse slipped out. I just stood by the side of his bed and watched him.

He looked at me and smiled. Then he reached for my hand, I took it, and sat down on the bed.

"I'm so glad you came," he cooed. "I tried to act all macho, like I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm so glad you did." I leaned down and gave him a kiss.

Part 2 tomorrow.