Back to the story…

It’s now July 17. I only remember up until 7:00am or thereabouts. That was when they collected me from the ward to be wheeled in to surgery.

The anaesthetist had a chat with me while a nurse did her thing with my arm.

It’s now 1:00am July 18.

Lost a whole day.

So, what happened:

FBH and Son were together waiting for a call from surgeon around 12:30pm.

Not being able to wait, FBH called the hospital.

“Sorry, he’s still in surgery.”

A little panic ensues. Shouldn’t he be out now?

1:00pm surgeon calls. All done. Pretty straight forward. He’ll be fine.

The stress on the FBH and Son hits and they cry in relief.

The family visits when allowed and I’m in ICU. See above picture. (FBH didn’t know Daughter was taking photo.)

I’m told when you’re in a coma you can still hear people.

I didn’t feel her hand on mine. I wish I had.

I don’t hear them come or go.

Next thing I know, it’s 1:16am and the nurse is fussing.

Something about heart rate being too high!

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