** WARNING ** GRAPHIC CONTENT**
It was my typical Tuesday in August. Hotter than hell and muggier than the rain forest. I can't remember if it was morning or early afternoon but I was working when I get a text from my Mom. I believe it was a photo with a caption that said, don't worry he's fine, he has a morphine drip! The photo was my Dad, in a hospital gown, sitting on a hospital gurney with an IV.
What the hell? That morning I clearly remembered my Mom telling me her car had a flat tire. I believe the next words out of my mouth were, you guys are not as young as you once were, please take the car to the professionals to do this.
Apparently she did not listen, tried to do it herself so my Dad came to help. The car jack slipped and he, what they medically call it, "de-gloved" his arm. I'll keep the photo small for everyones sake.
Well, thankfully he did not need a skin graft. He was home that day and on pain meds. He was going to make a full recovery. But damn. I did not need that in my life. Especially while pregnant.
Circular Saws are scary. Anything that automatically moves in a circular motion with an extremely sharp blade is scary and not to mention noisy.
It was now Thursday at 5:30pm. Just two days after I got that horrific text of my father on the hospital gurney. I was getting ready to leave work for the day and enjoy my wonderful commute home at 29 weeks pregnant when I got the call.
"I'm in the hospital. I cut my hand really badly with a circular saw. I have to have surgery. I'm going to be here awhile. Don't rush."
EXCUSE ME... DON'T RUSH?!? I was out the door before he said goodbye. Of course the bus took forever to arrive. The commute home was torture. I had to go home to get my care and let the poor puppies out before going to the hospital. I arrived around 8pm. They informed me the Emergency Room was on lock down. They could not let anyone else in. I was like, excuse me, my husband is in there, he is about to go in for surgery, I need to see him. Nope. But I'm pregnant. Nope.
Around 8:30pm, after I was denied entrance for the 2nd time, I went outside to call my Mom and bawl my eyes out. A lovely nurse came up to me and asked if I was ok. I mean, a very pregnant girl standing outside the ER at night crying like a baby, No! I was not alright! I informed him what was going on, he asked who my husband was. He knew exactly who he was and brought me to him. About 10 minutes later the surgeon came over to introduce himself to us and five minutes after that, he was whisked away for surgery. I got in just in time to say goodbye.
The surgeon gave me his card with his direct cell number. He also took my number down and said he would call me after the surgery. He told me to go home and get sleep. There was nothing more I could do and he did not want me staying in the waiting room of the hospital. So, I went home, cuddled up with the dogs and tried to sleep. Around 11:30pm, he called, as promised, and gave me an update. He said the thumb was ok but he was worried about the index finger. Everything was damaged.
I asked what time I could come see him in the morning and tried to sleep. Leif was very adamant about me not telling his family. So I obliged. His nurse called me around midnight to let me know his room number and say he was doing well. Around 1am I get a text from his sister. Apparently he called her while trying to get ahold of me. I had all of his personal items so they did not have to lock them up. He had not memorized my number and was very confused and called her. Of course he was drugged up and didn't remember a damn thing. So then, at 1am, I had to go explaining what had happened to his family. Never again will I not tell them. Oh, I was so mad!
The next morning I was at the hospital at 7am to drop off bagels, coffee, seltzer, his phone and computer. We spoke with the surgeon who said he would be discharged that evening so I went to work. It was a summer Friday, which means I got to leave work at 1pm. I was able to come home and let the dogs out before picking him up.
Apparently, while renovating the house, he had a little accident. Thankfully, Tom, our amazing life saving contractor, was here working on the basement and helped Leif get to a firehouse where they rushed him to the hospital. So many people to thank for helping our family out.
Well, as you all know, if you're keeping up, it is really January 2019, not August, and Leif just got cleared to go back to work. But first, he has to take his 5 week vacation he missed while on medical leave.... You can do the math. However, it has been such a blessing having him home during this important time in our lives. We call it a blessing in disguise. We are very thankful to the plastic surgeon, his physical therapist and the FDNY for helping us out.