11:04am: The doctor just came by to confirm that Momma's OK and on her way to recovery. We can go see her in about fifteen minutes. Momma now has an ID card for her pacemaker, so TSA, I am putting you on full alert. You MAY NOT super-can my Momma. You also MAY NOT feel her up. We clear? That lady is tougher than all of us combined.
10:52am: The nurse just called, Momma's out of surgery and did "just beautifully". The doctor is on his way up to talk with us now.
10:05am: Ever have that feeling that your brain is actually protecting you from yourself? I tried to get up three times this morning, but I kept falling back asleep. It's like I wasn't emotionally ready to handle today. (I'm not, for the record.) I got up at eight and got clean, avoiding any thoughts at all. I called Wade and we visited for a bit, and then came to the hospital. I only started crying once in the car - fat, thick tears that stick to eyeballs and cheeks. The only good about this kind of tear is that it doesn't make my makeup run.
Got to the hospital, to find that the parking garage was apparently designed for Zip Cars - not too handy in a town of uber-trucks and Ford Exorbitants. But Circe is still in one piece. I tore through the waiting areas to get to something called Cardiac Short Stop, which is the pre-op patient waiting area. Of course, I was thirty minutes too late so I haven't yet seen Momma. My dad is here and I am doing my best to not engage.
While I wait for an update, let me expound: In times of worry, my father becomes a child again. I finally learned this lesson when my grandmother - my Momma's momma - died. I was pretty hysterical and looking for comfort, as she and I were pretty close. (Not as close as Momma and her momma were, but still.) I hugged my dad, and he started talking about how sad he was about the whole thing, how much he cared about her, what her death meant to him, etc. I was offended, and since then, I never look to him for comfort. This may sound harsh and unfair, but too bad. I've had to be a grown-up in my family for as long as I can remember. I don't have a lot left for someone who let me be the adult. This doesn't mean that I don't love my dad, just that I don't draw strength from him.
So now we wait.
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