Heather's Surgery Adventures, Part 5

There comes a point in a hospital stay when it changes from being a novelty to being an adventure whose ending can't come soon enough.  I think we're there.  I say "we" because I've logged a more than a few hours here, keeping Heather company more than anything else.  She is well taken care of and is almost fully functional three days out from the surgery.

At this point, she is waiting for one man to show up to give her the go ahead to check out: Dr. Broad, the elusive neurosurgeon who popped into the operating room long after she was knocked out and who neither of us have actually seen this trip.  While she is ready, willing and able to bid adieu to this hospital right now, it probably won't happen until tomorrow.

Heather's roommate, who I wrongly identified in the last post as a fellow, is in fact Barb, a lady dealing with the ravages of throat cancer, chemo treatments and many months of being unwell.  Her husband came to visit today, providing a brief glimpse into the life of this person who becomes less of a stranger with each passing hour.  She is doing much better today, which will mean a better night's sleep for Heather, should she be required to stay over.

In many ways, this place feels like a world apart, an independent microcosm that operates 24-7 regardless of what happens beyond its wall.  From this vantage point, it resembles something from one of those science fiction films, a world within a world, an impervious glass bubble where life is self-sustaining.  For some reason, the film Logan's Run pops into my head.

This has felt like a min-holiday for me.  I've spent hours writing, doodling, colouring with my Sharpies and keeping in touch via social media with the things happening back home.  From time to time I wander down to the cafeteria to grab a coffee or a snack.  I use the stairs most of the time, except on those occasions when Heather joins me.  I don't want her tiring herself out too quickly; so we take the elevator.

All things are well.  She is in good spirits, and is incredibly patient waiting for her marching orders and our anticipated trip home.  We're going to miss the first day back to school for the boys, but they are in good hands with Grandma and Grandpa.  Perhaps we'll be there to greet them when they return at the end of their first day, ripe with stories of new teachers and old friends. We can always hope.


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