So very early on Friday morning one of my many doctors had come into the room and told me I was going home! I was excited and scared all at the same time. A few hours later I called Mom and Dad and told them so they would know to come on over to the hospital that morning. The next doctor that came in didn't say anything about it so I asked and he said, "Oh, we all looked at your numbers again this morning and had decided you're not ready to go home yet." It turns out that my oxygen levels weren't steady enough and some other things they'd been checking like potassium and such.
As you can expect, I was a bit crushed. Probably more because I was extra sensitive than because I wasn't getting out of the hospital. I started thinking about all things the different doctors had said in the past days and overthinking it all. I felt like it meant that the surgery didn't work and my lungs were still going to be just as much of a problem. I was afraid it was all for nothing. By Saturday morning I was in a tailspin. I needed someone to prove to me that my chest had been ripped open for a good reason and things were going to get better! Almost right on cue, Cathy Christopher walked into the room! She was so calming and comforting. She knew so much about my case. She explained how important the surgery was and how remarkable it was that I had lived 32 years with those rare defects. She explained that I would not have been strong enough to continue much longer with my heart in that condition. It had to be repaired. That was exactly what I needed. I needed someone who knew my situation to prove to me that I was going through all of this for a good reason. She did just that. She also talked to me about how hard it would be to go home. She went into great detail about the impact going home would have on me, my family, and my friends and how it was going to be something I would need to be prepared for, but would still be very difficult. I tried to just soak everything she said in and remember it.
Saturday afternoon they did release me from the hospital. The car ride back to the hotel was scary for some reason. I felt very out of control. I had trouble keeping my balance with each curve or turn. It was something else to learn to adjust to. (The doctor had told me that I would have to be a back seat passenger for eight weeks. It would take that long for my sternum to heal, so until then there would be no driving or riding up front.) It was good to be back at the hotel, our temporary home away from home. It was a rough night, but we all made it through. ;)
