3. The week before: Saturday and Sunday; Monday surgery

Details are already blurring; memories are confusing. I'm doing the best I can.

On Saturday September 2, Beth and Adam drove in together from Illinois. They arrived at the hospital in late afternoon, visiting a while with Ken and me in the hospital. I headed home, and they headed to a hotel they had rented nearby.

Jacob called several times, and was ready to come when needed. He blocked off time at work for the surgery Monday.

Claire started home from Traverse City. She stopped at Grandpere and Doris' home- where Diane and Thomas were visiting for Diane's birthday. It was awkward, but all the times were awkward. Claire came home to our house (an hour from the hospital) to check on Princess and be there for me.

Sunday, Claire and I took care of tasks at home for a while. We arranged for the Goldens to watch Princess- was this on Sunday? I think so. 

We all went together to the hospital. I think. We visited. Ken took notes on a tissue box of the doctors' comments because he didn't have paper. Ken had intermittent fever, and his blood sugar was higher than anticipated. It turns out he may have had diabetes for months... unsuspected. He didn't eat sugar all his life- after his dad died of complications of diabetes-, hardly at all, maybe that was why he had no symptoms. There were concerns. We were told it was serious- but bypass surgery has a great success rate.

Surgery would be the next day, Monday, Labor Day, and we learned he would be prepped for surgery at around 6:00 am so we all needed to be there early.

Claire and I went home. Beth and Adam went to their local motel. Later, Beth and Adam came back to visit again, as Ken was restless and unable to sleep.

 Monday September 4 2023

We all came back to the hospital the next morning. The drive from Holly was much shorter with no traffic at 4:30 in the morning. It was surreal; the hospital was empty, like a ghost town. All day.

Claire and I were there first, close to 5:30. Beth and Adam arrived shortly after, around 5:45. The nurse said Ken probably wouldn't go in to prep until closer to 6:30, so I told Jacob not to worry when he texted he was running behind (due to construction?). He arrived about 5 minutes to 6:00, which was a good thing, since the nurse was wrong and Ken was taken to prep at 6:00 or 6:05. We were able to go along with him to the prep room.

Still a ghost town - no one anywhere.

We were taken with him to the prep room. We were with him and the nurses who were all optimistic- after all, bypass surgery is all but routine these days!

We left for the waiting room while he was shaved. 

I think it was at this point that we met with the surgeon. This was one of two brothers. We eventually dubbed them the Evil Dr. M and the Good Dr. M. The surgeon who operated was the Evil Dr. M. His comments were- well, apparently surgeons suck at communication.

 He commented that his team was irritated about coming in on the holiday. Not information we needed! But he said it didn't matter, because he was the one that had a "relationship" with the patient. We kept telling him that Ken is the best guy, the BEST guy. I don't remember exactly what he said other than that- maybe my kids do. I feel like he said again that Ken was very sick, and also that bypass surgery is almost routine these days. Maybe this was when we heard- but I think it was earlier, maybe Saturday, maybe it was just reiterated- that the heart could respond well, and he could be better than he was- or, if the heart didn't respond well, he could "have a really hard road ahead."

I didn't care how hard- wheelchair, oxygen, months or years of rehab. We would adjust. We would do what was needed.

We came back in to visit and give our love before he went in to be sedated.

Ken was emotional. We all gave him kisses and encouragement.

Remember, Beth said. We're all here. We're just on the other side of that wall. 

That was the last time we ever spoke with him.

We had a roller coaster day that day. The OR nurse was great with updates, and the surgery went quite well. "He's doing great!" she kept saying. 

That means we were blindsided by the surgeon's remarks when he came to talk to us. I have since learned (been reminded) that surgeons have the worst bedside manners. Basically the surgeon said that the surgery went well, but that Ken's heart was weak, and had been deprived of the blood it needed for probably months. The hope was that the bypass would resupply the blood and the heart will strengthen; Ken could get much better.

However, there was a lot of damage, especially on the left side of the heart, from the previous heart attack; and because the heart disease (in addition to the heart attack) was so diffuse, and there was significant damage throughout, Ken might *not* have the recovery we would want, and might have "a hard road ahead"- the surgeon also mentioned some "worst case scenario" versions- probably to cover his ass, we thought at the time, but NOT what we needed to hear. The kids and I sort of melted down at that point.

Still waiting to see Ken.

To add insult to injury, the fire alarm went off. We had to vacate the building, hang out outside in record breaking heat while the alarm blared. We used a fire exit, which set off another alarm. 

We were shattered. No one was around. Eventually, some ?ambulance drivers? ?custodians? asked why we were outside. We said, because of the fire alarm! They said, oh, that was a false alarm!

Says who?

Eventually the fire department arrived and checked it out and turned off the alarms. We went back in. After that, we were eventually told by the Good Physician Assistant Laura? Lauren?- we were told that Ken was going to be sedated at least until tomorrow, and we should go home... Home was an hour away.

It was more than an hour after that when we were able to see Ken in the ICU. He was still sedated.

The ICU nurse was much more encouraging. Ken was stable, and at his age, a stay of some time in the ICU would be expected. According to the ICU nurse, Ken was doing fine.

As I recall it, we all went to Beth and Adam's hotel. We took the camp mattresses my friend Carol had loaned us. Claire and I stayed at the motel/hotel. After a while, after eating something, Jacob went to his home. He wanted- he needed- to see his kids.

The hotel/motel reeked of reefer. Not in the room, thankfully, but in the halls and the elevator. It was a place to sleep when we were not in shape to drive. 

The Goldens had Princess. 

We got what sleep we could.