So in an interesting turn of events, I am sitting on the waiting room side of things, while Dave is in the hospital bed, awaiting gall bladder surgery tomorrow morning. We sure are an interesting pair. I think we actually confused the hospital staff at first when we walked in, me with my bald head and still a bit unsteady from my chemo cocktail on Monday; and then it was Dave and not me who sat down in the wheelchair.
He had a severe gall bladder attack last night. I came down early this morning and found him doubled over in pain. I knew it was bad when he didn't argue with me when I suggested going to the hospital. Matt, Mikey and I took him to Bethesda North, where we figured out why they call it a "waiting" room, while Dave writhed in pain for 3 hours before we got back to the ER room, which turned out to be yet another waiting room, teaching us nuances of the word "wait" we had never imagined. The attack started around 4 a.m.; we got to the hospital 7ish; a nice nurse gave him some morphine and finally some relief around noon; then they decided to admit him for surgery (thankfully) and we proceeded to wait for a room. He really did ask for a room with a view. And a queen bed. I thought the staff put up with him pretty well considering.
We got into the room about 2:30, and after stuffing himself on a cup of ice chips (since he can't eat or drink anything until after the surgery) he crashed until the surgeon came in to check on him and let us know the surgery is tomorrow at 10 a.m. Interestingly, the gall bladder surgeon's name is Goel (pronounced Go-yal), which seems quite appropriate to me, and also gets high marks because of the cool alliteration. Not to mention, the fun slant rhyme.
We have had an uneventful evening here in the hospital. Which is a good and novel thing. The boys brought me some delish pasta a friend had brought over and sat with us while I ate an embarrassing amount of pasta. Really, you have no idea how much pasta I can put away. Dave had a second glass of ice chips while I ate so I wouldn't have to eat alone. But then he conned the new night nurse into a third one. And just now, a passing candy striper or some innocent ice carrying hospital worker fell right into his trap, so I'm getting a little concerned at this point. Plus, it's really loud, all that crunching, while I'm trying to type and think and stuff. I think I will grab the book of crossword puzzles we brought with us and see if I can get his mind off the ice for a while. And quiet him down a bit. It really was so peaceful and quiet in here until all this crunching of ice.
Thanks for your prayers. We will update here and on Facebook as soon as we can tomorrow.