8 days post my husband's sternum being sawed wide open, the only heart he has being poked, prodded and"surgeried", the blocked, diseased vessels being bypassed by three healthy ones ...and we are finally home from the hospital and on the road to recovery.
People say I'm stronger than I know but I didn't feel strong this week. I felt angry, vulnerable, fearful, irritable, faithless and needy. Also HUNGRY but somehow incapable of feeding myself.
To come home from the hospital when outside it is dark and cold and to find that someone has left me nourishing soup...was the FIRST best thing.
To wake up at 3:00 AM Saturday to the sound of our daughter coming in the house, to see her sweet, calm, and pretty face and know she is the only person in the whole world who loves Brian as much as I do...that was the SECOND best thing.
To see Brian smile and laugh the way he did before they invaded his body, to see him ask for assistance in getting down on the floor so he could be closer to our cat, Bailey, and to see him enjoy food again was the THIRD best thing. And now I am too tired to say anymore.
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