I told you so

One day to go until they do Martin's proceedure. I feel very optimistic, but that is kind of what scares me. When Bobbie Jo had cancer, I was convinced that we could beat it, and she would go on with her life, married to her Martin and raise Jared. I was selfish too, as it was a daunting thought that I would have to be her caretaker for quite awhile. I wasn't sure I was up to it. In spite of those feelings, I really felt she would make it. These thoughts plague me, but once again, this is something that Gloomy Gussy does- rethink the past and try to compare it to the present. Martin's doctor said he would take care of Martin. Why can't I just hang on to that? Where is this fear coming from? Just thinking about him going through this proceedure really scares me. I remember when he did the diagnostic tests after he had a bad EKG. First, the EKG was a surprise, as only in July, his EKG was normal. I thought it would be a fluke, and the tests would show no problems. But then, after all the tests were done, I waited for him to come on out and we would leave with nothing to worry about. In the next room, I heard the nurse tell another patient that his tests came out fine and he could go on home. I thought that I am tired of tests that show nothing, just precautionary stuff. So, when Martin came out to get me, I gathered up my stuff, (crochet, books, drink and chips) and prepared to leave with him. The nurse came in and said, "the doctor needs to talk to you". Hold on, why doesn't she talk to us? I asked why the doctor wanted to talk to us, and she said he would explain everything. A tiny little bell began to ring in the back of my mind. We went in, and the doctor came right to the point. "You have an area of the heart that is starved for blood, and I think there is a blockage. This dark part of the heart is where I am concerned about, we need to jump right on it" he said. The bell rang louder. When the doctor said, right on it, he meant the next morning. I went outside and sat on the sidewalk while Martin waited to get into the heart hospital. I always sit on the sidewalk when I am very distressed, I sat on the sidewalk lots when Bobbie Jo was sick, and when I found out I had cancer, I sat on the sidewalk and refused to go into the cancer hospital. I was convinced I would never come out alive. Anyway, I sat on the sidewalk and waited for Martin. I tried to digest what had happened, but I concentrated on the fact that the doctor told Martin that they would probably put a stint in the blockage and be done with it. When Martin came out, we went to the heart hospital and checked him in. The next day, I waited outside in the family waiting room for news of Martin. The angiogram showed severe blockage in the main artery of his heart and total blockage in another artery. I must have looked alarmed, because the doctor said not to worry, they would put in a stent and Martin would stay over the weekend and go home. After that, while waiting for the stent to be put in, I called the Bishop, the family and a few friends that would pass the news for me and told them that all was well, he did fine, and not to worry. While I was still on my little high, the surgeon came out and sat down. I knew something was wrong. He told me that he had tried 6 times to stent Martin's artery, but they could not get it open. It had a calcium blockage and they were going to have to drill out the calcium. Okay, get going. I have stuff to do. Then, the doctor told me that they would have to wait 6-8 weeks to do the proceedure because the artery was very weak from all the efforts they had made. The bell began to clang. I asked if Martin would have to stay in the hospital for 6-8 weeks, and was told no, there was nothing they could do, so he should stay a few days, then go home, take it easy and use nitro spray if he got cardiac pain. It took a moment, but then I asked what would happen if he had a heart attack. "We would do our best to save him" was the answer. The next question was, "is he in danger of a heart attack?" I was told that the nitro spray would give us some time if a heart attack occurred, and again told they would do what they could. 6-8 weeks seemed like forever, and I began to worry, (as I have expressed myself in this blog) that the worst would happen and he would die. I imagined myself as a widow. I imagined myself alone without Martin. I lay awake at night, thinking that he would be gone by the next day. Each time he had pain, I was afraid that it was the big one. I have prayed daily, sometimes hourly, that I would not be left with Martin on this earth. My friend died, and I saw his wife greeting everyone at his funeral, and I hoped that I could be so gracious if I had to.

So, here I am. One day to go. One more day to wait. I do think that he will be fine, but I am telling you that the time he is in the surgery room will be very hard on me. I want the doctor to come out, smile and tell me that everything went well. I don't want to hear that they could not fix Martin and he had to live knowing that at anytime he could die. I especially don't want to hear that something went terribly wrong, and he died. See what a baby I am? See how pessimistic? See how I always expect the worst? I never used to be like that, but after the death of two of my children and other unexpected tragedies, I can't seem to find it in myself to ignore the possiblilty of a bad outcome. On Friday, when I report that Martin did great and he is going to go on and- recover from this, I want you to call me and tell me I was a worry wart for nothing. It will be the -sweetest thing I could hear. My phone number is: 281-474-1256. If you don't want to call, then comment on this post. I want to see and hear: I told you so!