And Everything Was OK!

Yesterday was a crazy fuck-up of a day. And though everything turned out OK, it brought back a lot of memories that I preferred to keep tucked away. To put it lightly, hospital waiting rooms just really aren't for me.

Friday night I got a voicemail from my Aunt Starr telling me I needed to call her immediately. As a woman that can never figure out that she is actually talking to a voicemail recording, this short and coherent message was out of the ordinary. Something was wrong. I debated calling her back. I was on my way downtown for a show and I had plans for the weekend. Did I really want the bad news right then, or could it wait? I called... And preceded to sink to the ground on a back road of downtown. (I do not recommend this as I know all too well of the bodily relieving that takes place on the streets of Orlando.)

My uncle had had a heart attack. He was being life flighted to the Orlando hospital. I needed to go see him as soon as possible.

After some research I found out visiting hours are only until 9 in the ICU, there was nothing I could do that night and I wanted to get my mind off of things. I went to the show. The next day I found out he was on bed rest and wasn't allowed to move at all. It was best for me to wait to see him. I kept with my plans I had made months ago and went out of town for a show in Gainesville. I got back late Sunday and had to work until 5:30 on Monday. When I got off I called my cousin to see if I could stop by. "They kick us out from 6 to 8, then we come back for an hour before they kick us out for good. You won't make it in time to see him. Don't worry..."

So I couldn't see him at all. He was scheduled for a double-bypass on Wednesday; this would be the first time I'd get to see him. When I walked into the room that morning I was surprised to see how awake he was. He looked worse for the wear, but he was ready to get on with his surgery. He also was sporting a newly shaved head; something my cousin gifted him in the middle of the night while he was sleeping. After a group prayer it was out to the waiting room.

My uncle went in at 2:30. We finally got to see him at 6:40. He was still asleep and wouldn't wake until the morning. He's connected to too many tubes and a breathing machine. There are only 30 minute increments of visiting time every few hours per day. I won't be seeing him again until he's home.