|a vacation after the first surgery|
The next few hours are a bit of blur. EKGs, tears, phone calls, requests for information, frustration, confusion, questions, blood tests, wondering if the fact that he was pushed to the front of the line for an angiogram was a good thing or a bad sign. More waiting, more calls, more anxiety, a brief smile because Julie Kavner (ie: Marge Simpson) was TAWKing loudly into a cell phone next to me, bare bones information from a doctor and then the words, "your husband has had a heart attack".
I didn't hear much after that. He was alive. That was all I cared about. Half my brain was trying to calculate how I was going to get home to get the kids to sleep and settled down, and half my brain was trying to process what had happened and how we were going to handle what comes next.
The last 4 days have been hell. I am scared and exhausted and stretched too thin; my mind tends to skip ahead to what ifs. I also find it hard to ask for help and am just so overwhelmed that I don't even know what to ask for even though everyone I know has offered (and then I feel guilty because I'm not letting people help me). Mostly, the last few days have been so hard because my husband means the world to me and to our kids and the thought of losing him is just incomprehensible.
For now, I just want to remind all of you reading this that even when your partner is doing everything "wrong" or is frustrating or doesn't "get it"...remember how fragile life is and how very easily it could all be taken away. Leave no words of love left unsaid and remember that you are incredibly lucky for all that you have been given.
Thank you for reading!
The Twin Coach
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