Dad had surgery to repair his abdominal aneurysm on Friday, 4/17. I am so grateful to report that he made it through with flying colors, with his sense of humor still intact. Upon arriving in his room after a stint in recovery, the nurse renounced his vital signs as “perfect”, to which he replied “Good. Can I go home now?” ;>}
It was a very long day for all of us. Since the operation was scheduled for 7:30 am, he had to check in by 5:30, so they could prep him for surgery. The hospital was over an hour’s drive away from home, so we were up by 3:00 am, and in the car by 4:00 am. Not surprisingly, we made it to Cumming in exactly one hour (no traffic, for a change!).
The surgery took over 3-1/2 hours to perform. Greg and I subsisted on Starbuck’s coffee and lots of high-carb junk food (my diet! :>() Dad then spent 2 hours in recovery, during which time Greg and I ran out and did a little shopping (the retail possibilities near the hospital were amazing! This mountain girl was like a kid in a candy store! The opportunity to buy stuff at a venue other than Walmart was a temptation my weak spirit could not resist.) By the time we returned to the hospital, we were notified that Dad was moved to a room.
We made sure that Dad was resting comfortably, and then left for home. The goal was to beat the homeward bound traffic. We were so tired, and by that time, had already been gone from home for 11 hours.
Upon arriving home, we entered the living room through the garage door. The reality of the sight that greeted us did not register at first. Denial! The living room floor was covered with white foam rubber, and the source was a rectangle that had black springs “sproinging” out of its innards. On closer inspection, there was a large swath of green fabric that closely resembled a prominent piece of furniture from the living room. Horrors! It suddenly became clear that Bear had launched a surgical strike on the not-even-1-year-old loveseat. Clearly, he was not happy about being left alone all day. Well, now the trifecta of destruction is complete. The tasty wood blinds that he munched on, the wool area rug that he chewed holes into, and finally, the loveseat that now resembles a single–seater chair, all gone in a blink of an eye!
I didn’t even have a chance to capture the results of this drama with my camera. Greg was so afraid of a wifely meltdown, that he scooped up the destruction and disposed of it immediately. However, the look on Bear’s face reminded me of this pic I found just a couple of weeks ago:
Based on this extremely bad behavior, I bet you think I am ready to kill this dog. I should be, but strangely, I am not. The depth of love I feel for Bear surprises even me. Something about the soulful, baleful look in those eyes, his exuberance for life, and his innocent “puppy-ness” gets me every time. According to what I hear, he won’t outgrow his destructive urges until he is 3 years old (should he live that long!); last month, he turned a year old. Looks like this the pup is going to be spending a lot of time-outs, locked in our bathroom, when he is left unsupervised.
On Saturday, Dad was well enough to return home! He is doing so well…hasn’t taken a single pain pill!
Many, many thanks to all of you for the prayers and happy thoughts you sent to our family during this stressful time. Clearly, they had the desired efffect, because my Dad is still with us, and for that, I am eternally grateful.