Heartbeats in the night

2003-09-24 - 9:33 p.m.

The first thing my grandfather said when he was able to speak again was, "When are they going to cut into me?" I took that as a good sign--obviously he wasn't in pain. "They're all done, Grampa," I said, "It's almost 9pm." He was shocked, "It's been twelve hours!" "Yeah, it has." "You guys must be tired!"

We woke up this morning at 5am and got ready to go. I drove Mom and Grampa into San Francisco. The parking garage for the hospital is only a hundred yards or so from the hospital, but I wasn't sure we would ever get Grampa there, he was dragging his feet so much in apprehension. But we finally got there. We got there early, but the surgery prior to his was cancelled so they took him right in. We were able to stay with him as they got him ready. He was getting pretty axious after they shaved his legs and his chest and attached an oxygen nasal canula and I could see he was starting to tear up. I could totally understand, I was pretty freaked out myself. They had recently pulled the curtain to give a morphine shot in his butt so when I saw him tearing up I smiled and said, "Did they just give you a shot? I didn't even hear you cry!" Immediately the tears dried up and he smiled and said, "Don't you know? Marines don't cry!" which is something of an inside joke (he was in the Marines during WWII) but certainly did the trick.

While he was in surgery my mom and I wandered around San Francisco. We had breakfast in a really great little cafe called Nani's Cafe, then walked up Broderick to see the apartment where my mom spent the first five years of her life. Then we walked through Golden Gate Park and finally did a little shopping at a store near the hospital. I bought myself a bigger purse. Finally, a purse big enough to hold a hardback! We sat in the waiting room long enough for me to beat my mom in cribbage by one point and for me to teach her how to play "speed" and for us to play several games. Then Grampa's surgeon called and told us that his surgery had gone off without a hitch, that he was in recovery, and that we'd get another call when Grampa was in the ICU ready for visitors. During the time we were waiting it worked out perfectly for us that there was a class being given for families on how to take care of your relative who has just had cardiac surgery. They didn't say much I didn't know, but it was nice to hear it again.

When we saw Grampa in the ICU for the first time, he was still heavily sedated. He was still intubated. He had a nicardipine drip going to keep his blood pressure up, but was otherwise just fine. The nurse told us he still had pinpoint pupils and had yet to take a spontaneous breath. So we left. We went and checked into our hotel. DeenPo called and I talked to her for a while. Whe was a fun diversion. At work today someone had put a used enema back on the shelf and apparently she didn't realize that it was used until after she had handled it quite a bit. And then she "completely wigged out." Funny girl.

The first time we called the ICU they told us that Grampa wasn't awake yet. So we watched the debate on TV. Arnold Schwarzenegger has officially lost any sympathy I ever had for him. What an idiot. He and Arianna Huffington are enought to drive a person crazy. After the debate I called the ICU again and they told me Grampa was awake, but still intubated. So Mom and I hightailed it down to the hospital. Grampa looks great. Much, much better than I expected. I suppose I'm used to seeing people in the hospital who are on their last legs. Luckily, Grampa was hardly sick going into this operation so hopefully recovery will be easier. They extubated him shortly after we arrived and he was able to talk to us. He was pretty lucid--able to joke around with us--but he was also very tired. We didn't stay too long.

I'm really happy that he's doing so well. We'll see how things go tomorrow when more of the anesthesia has worn off and he is more able to feel his incisions, but so far, all is well.