Bye-Bye Mayo!!

It's Saturday night, January 5. I'm sitting in Mom's living room, on her old recliner that she directed Pat to drag out into the center of the room, next to a plastic box pre-ordained to serve as a "nightstand". My childhood room has been cleaned up and set for my recovery as well! What a day! About 3 AM, a nurse came in to "turn down" my Heparin drip, as my 12:30 blood test had apparently reported it near sufficient. Before sunrise, it was pretty clear that I was GOING HOME. I took a shower, packed up my stuff, roused my family and waited...
Dr. Basar came in and literally poked me in the chest as hard as he could -- checking their work or what? He had me cough a few times and showed me (rather entertainingly - imagine a rather charming, suited Indian doctor in these cnvoluted poses) how NOT to move while my sternum heals up. A bit later, Dr. Sundt breezed in with his team, characteristically in his bow tie, wondering "if there is anything else we can do for you?" I was tempted to come back with some humor, like "Yeah, well, as long as I'm hear, could you just do a few preemptive knee replacements, too?" - but couldn't quite muster it up!
Remember that lesson in high school where you had to take care of an egg and pretend it was a baby (yeah, I know - it didn't really make sense, but you'll see my point here). Patrick had been quite literally feeling out HIghway 52 on his last trip down to Mayo, thinking all the while about how fast and on what part of the lane he should drive to get my broken sternum and I home.... We decided Mom and Barb would be the 'back up' vehicle in case the RAV turned out to be too rough a ride. SO here am I, the Egg, tucked into the back seat (can't ride in the front with a broken sternum, or near an airbag...for obvious reasons!) ready for the ride home...
I was feeling pretty good. I am OUT! SPRUNG! ON THE MEND! Partway home I decided the very least I could do to just barely symbolically pay back my family team would be to buy them lunch. We spend my first 'fresh air, fresh food' meal at d'Amico Cocina; discussing the week. Things that were very clear to them were a bit fuzzy to me. Apparently, my first requests coming out of sedation were "DIET COKE WITH LIME", "IM HUNGRY" and "GET THE TUBE OUT". Demanding, aren't I?
I heard in detail how the nurses would phone and page my family during the surgery, how they let them know when they were "making the incision" and when I was "off pump" - ie - the heart/lung machine was no longer living for me. I heard how Pat was a bit emotional when he saw me hooked up to a million machines, and how everyone was comforting him, even the nurses (come on honey - you scammed that one didn't you?? Sympathy hugs?? :) ) I vaguely remembered them gathered at the foot of the bed, and having the big heart pillow (the hospital gives each patient a giant heart pillow, with a model of a 'real' heart on it, as a souvenier-complete with a marker so you can collect signatures from your nursing and surgery team! It does have a real function to it - to cough with a broken sternum, you need to hug that pillow in tight to your chest). I remember being walked out of the ICU the next morning and proudly consuming about 5 chunks of orange JELLO.
At any rate, halfway home, a quarter of the way healed (hopefully), anxious to try for some real sleep (it's hard to lay on your back or side with the broken sternum), and getting a giggle out of my mom - an 87 year old is STILL a "MOM" and her 47 year old daughter, especially when ill, is STILL a "KID".
Pat headed back up to Duluth to try to make arrangements to get our front door installed and get ready for the furnace installation on Monday and Tuesday....
I heard my valve click today for the first time, in the bathroom in the quiet of the night. It reminded me of a singular evening cricket...