...And We're Ready For Take-Off...

Here we go.... the journey to Claudia's new knees has begun. The kids and I spent the night at my mom's last night, so she and I could get up and make it to the hospital by 5:30 a.m. this morning. For those of you who are interested, we didn't make it. We were 10 minutes late, which the check in nurse was only too happy to remind of us when we arrived. My mom got her fashionable, blue bracelet and we sat down to wait. After the small fit about our tardiness, we fully expected that she would be whisked back to pre-op immediately, but no. We waited a good 20-30 minutes before my cell phone rang. That's how they do it these days... instead of walking out to the waiting room and calling your name, the nurse stays at her station and gives you a call. I just got a new phone Saturday, and couldn't figure out how to answer it (the ridiculously early hour may have contributed to my confusion) so the lazy nurse had to get up and come get us anyway. We trotted back to the weigh in/ blood pressure station to get the party started. She must have passed because from there we were shuffled down the hall to our very own room. Claudia stripped, put on her lovely blue gown, (to go with the jewelery they had just given her) and climbed into bed. A very kind nurse, named Nadine (just like my grandma) came in to start her IV, give her some meds, and keep her circulation going with snazzy foot pumps. She, was apparently a bit more skilled than the nurse my mom had on Friday, (for her clot filter procedure) because the IV went in easy as 1-2-3 on the first try (she was super happy about that since she looks like they used as a pincushion last time). Nadine left us alone, and we made stupid small talk... the kids this, and the kids that, instead of me telling her that I love her and need her, so she would know in case something were to happen. I don't know why I am such an emotional retard. I think I would tell her if I could go back and do it again. The incredibly handsome male nurse, Brigham, came to take her away to "holding", (which she said makes her sound like she's cattle,) where she was to hang out with her anesthesiologist until her surgery started at 7:30. I was redirected to the surgery waiting area. When I got here, there was one other person, now it is almost overflowing. Some in here are sullen, with worry lines creasing their faces, and others are joking, playing their game systems and eating greasy McDonalds take-out. I wonder where I fit in this room... Can these strangers see the panic I'm feeling written across my face like a cheap paperback novel? Know what stupid thing I said to my mother as they wheeled her away?!? "Be good Mom. Don't give 'em too much trouble." Why didn't I say I love you? Why didn't I remind her to come back to me in a few hours? What if something bad happens, and the last thing I got to say was "Be good"? Will I be able to live with myself? In case you can't tell, I have a lot of angst about this surgery. She is excited, and happy, and not nervous at all. I am nervous enough for the both of us. It is now 8:20. Nearly an hour since they started. I have not heard any updates yet. Nadine told me to call if they don't update me by 9:30. Only an hour to go until they can tell me something... anything...