Nurse Lori is my go-to for the day. She checks in on Rico's room and checks back with me. We had a six am prep time and an eight am surgery scheduled. Her first report was that surgery didn't actually start until 11.
I feel bad about this, mostly because neither of us were very happy when they wheeled him away at 9:15. If I'd known he was going to be scared and loney for another two hours, I probably would've pulled some sort of "I Love Lucy"-type stunt, dressed like a Russian surgeon and followed him in there.
Everything I've ever been afraid of these past few months is just one floor below me, but everything I've been wishing for is there too. He is absolutely my favorite part of life. I can't wait for his to get better.
The guy in the lone pullout chair just bequeathed it to me since his sister's hip replacement is done. There's a Starbucks across the street. I think I finally got Yoda off of Instagram. So far so good with the surgery - they're on hour two of trying to get that effer off of his bone - and they say he's doing great. But they're serving rattatouie (or however you spell it) in the cafeteria for lunch. Oh well - four out of five ain't bad.