Okay, maybe not the whole story - but as much as I can tell you. It's now two days later and I'm exhausted. Not "just got spinal surgery" exhausted. More like "my wife just got spinal surgery" tired.
Vicky and I got up a couple of hours before God on Wednesday. Actually, she stayed in bed. I was awake. I was awake for most of the night. Vicky had to get to the hospital by 6:30am, so she slept until 6:00am. "I don't have to put on make-up," she said. "So, I'm sleeping."
We met her dad, Steve, at the hospital, and Vicky was shuttled off to put on her buttless robe. (Consider yourself lucky if you don't know what I'm talking about!) So, we sat... and both of us began to fall asleep - in these horribly uncomfortable and very small chairs. (Ken, it's because you're fat!)
But they let us in soon enough and we all sat in this little room - except for Vicky, who was reclining in her gurney - waiting for the doctor. And, we waited. Vicky watched Designing Women on the TV. And we waited. The doctor was about an hour late... bastard!
But he showed, eventually. Vicky was given a sedagive through her IV and they wheeled her off. But first, I gave her a kiss. It would have been my last kiss ever... I'm glad she survived because the kiss kinda sucked. (You can't really kiss well under those conditions, I guess.)
I had brought some work to keep me busy because, honestly, I was pretty useless at that point. But I also had a father-in-law to... I felt like I was supposed to keep him entertained, keep him busy, help him pass the time. I had no appetite at all - so I took him to breakfast... at Denny's... not my favorite place.
Over breakfast, we played "What to talk about". Vicky's dad is a great guy and I like him a lot but a social butterfly he ain't. He's more like a normal guy; he can stand silence. He lives in that zip code. Me? I need to talk. Fortunately, I learned a long time ago that we can achieve that by asking lots of questions. So, I got him talking and everything was fine.
We finished breakfast, we back to the hospital, sat in the waiting room... and Steve comfortably passed out. And I watched the clock. And I watched the people. And I worked. And I watched the idiots using their cell phones, despite the signs telling you that use of cell phones could kill the patients!... ugh!
But the doctor came out about a half hour early and told us that the surgery went "perfectly". What a relief! All the images of Vicky confined to a wheelchair, of Vicky being a vegetable, of Vicky being dead and leaving me to find some other, young hottie disappeared... Salma Hayak... Jessica Alba... that nurse walking by... all gone! All gone! Seriously, though, I was relieved.
Immediately, I ran outside and started calling Vicky's friends to give them the good news. Nearly an hour later, I was done - Vicky has WAY too many friends.
We were sent up to Vicky's room (private room!) to wait for her. I grabbed all of her luggage and headed up. Steve fell asleep in the chair and I stood and waited. I was standing around a lot that day. But then, I noticed a little hub-bub; Vicky was approaching! I went out to meet her and she was awake and okay! There was my baby! Thank Joe Pesci!
It was almost as if nothing had happened. She had lunch and was used the bathroom on her own! She had a snack and was walking around! She had dinner and visited with friends! Her appetite was just fine!
I was going to spend the night but the chair they equipped the room with was, um, small. (You're fat, Ken!) It wasn't a chair for sleeping in. So, by 7:00pm, I headed home. I cleaned the house a little. I walked the dog. I sent out some emails and made some calls... and before I knew it, it was nearly midnight. The upside of the day, though, was that I'd have the bed all to myself! Oh yeah! I stretched out on the cool sheets and was out in a minute.
I woke up on the floor... the living room floor... downstairs... fucking sleepwalking! I felt like I'd had back surgery as a result of the hard, unforgiving ground. But I was up soon because I had some more house cleaning to do, a dog to walk, and a wife to pick up.
I got to Vicky's room around 11:00am and she was nearly ready to go. It was great seeing her healthy again. Most of her pain was gone gone gone - just like it was supposed to be. Terrific.
Too terrific. Almost immediately, we began fighting. Oh crap. Reality rushes in on you so fast.
We'll be spending the next six weeks living with this. She'll be healing and I'll be taking care of the house, which will look more like a city dump by week five - but I'll try my best.