R Man’s surgery went swimmingly well today. They started about five hours late, which meant we got to sit around the hospital room chatting all morning while the anxiety level mounted like some ridiculous reality show contest. Finally they got under way and I think to make up for the delay, they wound up doing a quadruple bypass. Frankly that smacks of grandstanding to me and you now how I hate any affectations, but I didn’t want to say anything to the little doctor telling me about it. He seemed so pleased with himself I hated to hurt his feelings. Plus by then I was just dazed from hanging around hospital waiting rooms.
Actually, once they wheeled R Man off to the knife room, I trotted down the street to the Kabuki Spa to try and relax. No it’s not that kind of spa, it’s a no-sex Japanese baths. Fabulously stylish, great steam room, a salt water hot tub, and today they had big bowls of sliced apples. Yummy. Oddly enough, although I usually adore the place, today I just somehow couldn’t get in the mood. Funny, huh? So I gave up and went back to hospital to hang in the lobby and wonder why any waiting room where people are already tense would have two televisions tuned to CNN and Fox. News nazis, just what I want to listen to while I’m worrying about a loved one.
So the doctor came out, said it was fine, no problem, R Man will be out of it all night and that I should go home and come back tomorrow. R Man will be in the hospital for at least five more days recovering. He didn’t mention anything about taking a Valium when I got here, but I’m sure that was just an oversight, so I took a 10 mg (they’re such an attractive shade of blue, aren’t they?) and now I feel ever so much more calm. Come to think of it, I already was so relieved I’m sort of numb,so maybe the Valium wasn’t precisely necessary, but it’s too late now.
This is a picture of me and R Man from years ago in the photo booth in the basement of Woolworth’s on Market Street. It’s my favorite picture of us.