Under the knife

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I sit up on the half empty bed, the left side lays cold and forgotten it suddenly feels so much bigger than it used to. In 10 years I have never slept in the bed without him.

The surgery went well. It lasted 4.5 hours and left him now with a single but very healthy kidney and missing a small portion of his bladder. He has two drains, a catheter, oxygen and two IV’s not to mention a scar the envy of pirates everywhere.

It’s amazing how the night time can be filled with noises you have never heard before when void of snoring from the other side of the bed, the septic usually un-noticeable now sounds as though somebody with a pair of gumboots and a good puddle is dancing outside the window.

The doctor is hopeful that he should be able to come home this week, his ob’s are great and he recovered from the anesthesia in record time. His pain is low too thank goodness but he is doped up to the eyeballs so we will have to wait and see how he copes as the morphine is stepped down.

I think I quite like him on morphine, he repeatedly declared his undying love for me and called himself the luckiest man in the world. As flattered as I am, in the giddy state I left him in, he has probably since told each of the nurses and the 80yr old farting man in the next cubicle the exact same thing.

So if I don’t get murdered by whatever that thing is making growling noises in the distance, I will drive back to the big smoke and sit by his bedside tomorrow, hopefully the night hasn’t brought any challenges and I will have a slightly less spaced out version of my husband, I don't know how much longer I can cope with that much love.

Onwards & Upwards.