The Funny Farm

Tomorrow is going to be a big day! My Daddy will undergo his sixth surgery on his chest at 10 am - so everyone say a prayer! GASP! I know, I can't believe it either! The muscle they transferred from his belly to his open chest wound started hemorrhaging the night he had surgery on March 16, and Doctor Fowler had to put a few stitches in some important spots near the top to stop the bleeding. It worked, but now Daddy has a blood clot formed on this upper area and looks like there could be some gangrene going on too. It really looks bad and has quickly progressed in the wrong direction since I saw it on Friday. It is simply black, much like frost bite, with a guey tar-like texture working its way about one third of the length of the muscle. I was so disappointed at how it looked and so was the nurse who hadn't seen it in a week. He had hopes of going home at the end of this week, but I don't see how that could happen now. Doctor Fowler seemed fairly nonchalant about the surgery and said he would buff off that bad looking layer and touch up a few spots on his belly (which for the record are black and horrible looking also). He said it would be a short surgery and that Daddy would come back to his room and not to CCU unless something unexpected happened.
Just keep my Daddy in your thoughts and prayers, especially while this surgery is going on. He is being very brave and facing this with the certainty and confidence of a warrior. Lord, we are so thankful for how far he has come and trust that this will be the final battle!
Happy 40 birthday (also tomorrow) to my sweet, loving husband (CRAIG) of 17 wonderful years. Aren't you lucky that I have so much going on with Daddy that I can't give you a surprise party complete with strippers! NO I WOULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS DO THAT - but it felt funny to type it. The next forty years will be the best years of our life. We will finish raising these crazy kids, find all kinds of fun things to get into and probably find a few grandchildren tugging at our jeans (scarey thought). Ok. . . Craig will find the crazy things to get into because that is his thing, hobby and passion . . . and I will enjoy being along for the ride! No one is allowed to have surgery on their chest . . ever! DEAL? I sure do love my birthday "boy"! Maybe at the ripe old age of 40 you can no longer be called a boy, but rather a MAN! Congratulations, you have finally obtained the appropriate age to go along with all of those distinguished gray hairs! HEE! HEEE! He will be dwelling in another decade of age for a few weeks, then I will join him.