So, the other day I told you about the moaner in the parking lot. Well, yesterday, I had to take my husband, Sanford to the hospital for an operation. While I was nervously waiting in the waiting room, and watching the various bizarre incarnations of humanity, a man walked up to me. I was minding my OWN business. I was checking email. So, here is how it went...remember...I don't like people. I REALLY don't like people I don't know.
Me: *absorbed in email or angry birds or something*
Strange man: Hello lady.
(already this is not starting well...)
Me: Uhhh..
Man: I notice you use small computer...(he spoke in broken English and appeared to be middle eastern.)
Me: Um, yes.
Man: Is true is really computer? I can do business on it?
Me: Well, yes. I use mine more than my laptop, probably. I love it.
Man: I call Dell...Dell? Is that name? Dell? And they tell me things and want much money.
Me: Oh. Mine's an IPad.
Man: An I...what?
Me: IPad. Apple makes it.
Man: Oh. I see. How much does it cost? (RUDE!)
Me: Oh, I don't really remember, I've had it awhile...a few hundred, I think.
Man: I notice your star on your neck.
Me: Wha?
(he switched gears with no warning at all...)
Man: You wear Star of David on your neck. I am your cousin.
Me: *blink blink*
Man: We are cousins.
Me: I don't think we are. I know my cousins.
Man: No. I mean, I am one of your people.
Me: (mistakenly thinking he was Jewish..) Oh! Okay...
Man: I. Am. Palestinian.
Me: *blink* Uhhh..oh. Ok. Not really cousins, then.
Man: Yes. Cousins. People don't understand us. We are all same. Christian, Jewish, Muslim...
Me: Well, yeah, Israel is a busy place. I'm a Zionist.
Man: I am Jamal.
Me: Hello.
Man: Okay, goodbye.
SERIOUSLY? In a hospital waiting room? Claiming to be my "cousin"? Sorry, my cousins don't kill Jews in their homeland. Blech. I was watching over my shoulder the rest of the time, too. I kept expecting him to come running in with a bomb strapped to his check shouting "Allah Al Akbar" or however they say it. He disappeared, though. Cousin, my ass. Bless his little dark Palestinian heart.
So, back to my husband. Sanford is stone cold deaf in his right ear. He has always had ear issues. Drainage, annoying clearing of throat and snorting snot...you know...guy stuff. Plus, he is always hollering, "WHAT?" and it gets annoying. Plus, it's more annoying for him because he never knows what's going on.
So, after a rather invasive procedure a couple of years ago called a "Mastoidectomy" where they drilled out part of his lower skull, they now have decided to in essence rebuild his eardrum with cartilage from his other ear. His Eustachian tubes don't work for whatever reason, so a new way to drain had to be created. His ears were completely filled with fluid. So, it was a fairly routine procedure, it is outpatient, and no complications were expected.
After they let me sit with him and help him change into his gown and comfort him, they took him off, and sent me down to the waiting room. I had a "tracking number" that I could check on a flat screen, sort of like an airport. It told me if he was in pre op, surgery, recovery, etc. It has an estimated time, and it's pretty nice. Every little while, my name was called, and I'd go up to the desk and the lady would tell me the nurse had sent a message down saying that everything was going well, and he was doing great. I wasn't terribly worried. After about 2 hours, they had me meet with the surgeon in a private room and he told me it was fine, it all went according to plan and Sanford was doing great. He said as soon as he got out of recovery, I could go up. Great. I'm anticipating like what, 1/2 hour or so? An hour goes by. No word. Another hour goes by, no word. Finally, they call my name again. Only this time, a strange woman was waiting for me. She very matter of factly said, "Mrs. Freeman? Your husband isn't waking up from the anesthesia. We are monitoring him and trying to bring him out of it, but he is still in recovery. He had a mild seizure, and we're trying to wake him up. Okay? Bye."
I stood there in a crowded waiting room and never felt so alone. I couldn't get to him, I couldn't get more information, I didn't know why he wouldn't wake up and what the hell was going on.
I sat back down to wait thinking, well, it will be a minute or so, and they'll call me. An hour goes by. Nothing. I start getting very scared. My friends are texting me asking me how he is, and I don't know what to say. FINALLY, they page me again and tell me I can go up.
I go up, I find him and he is OUT OF IT. He was awake, but glassy eyed and acted like he just got out of surgery instead of having been out for about 3 hours. He was sort of talking nonsense from the drugs, and kept asking questions over and over. His voice is very raspy from them taking the breathing tube out. They said he tried to talk when they did it, so it may have scraped his vocal cords. He remembers none of it. I was so relieved, I started crying just a little bit. Then, finally a nurse came in to give me discharge instructions. I asked about the seizure and why he wouldn't wake up. Answer: We don't know. Great. Then they said, "Maybe it wasn't a real seizure, but his whole body was....seizing.." Well, hell...that sounds like a seizure! He has no history of that, either. I was able to bring him home a short time later, and he has been resting ever since. He had the exact same anesthesiologist he had during his first surgery, too.
Hopefully, our medical issues, both his and mine are over. Please God, don't let anyone else I love have to have anything done. What a helpless feeling it is.
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