with confidence and hope, through all crises.
That Zimmerman chick might have known what she was talking about. I think this sweater, Ariann, saved my life yesterday. But first, the surgery went fine and G now has an approximately 8″ gash along his side and he’s quite comfortable actually and we don’t know anything. They told us we’ll know something between Xmas and New Year’s – like two weeks. The torture continues.
I knit A LOT on Ariann yesterday – I finished the sleeves and added a few repeats to the body and joined the whole thing up and knit the first set of decreases for my size. I’ve got a lot more to do but I want this sweater DONE. It’s incredibly tantalizing to be almost there so I keep knitting and knitting. Yesterday this sweater felt like my only friend. I’ve waited for G to get out of surgery many times before – but those were always orthopedic surgeries where they come out and tell me he’s got to do PT and he’ll be fine. This was SO MUCH different. First of all, I was alone. Which was my own fault because I had lots of people offer to sit with me. I just thought it wouldn’t be a big deal since I’ve waited out surgery alone lots of times. I had my knitting, right? Man was I wrong. This was the absolute worst. The waiting area was huge and packed with families all waiting and I overheard what felt like a hundred awful stories and everyone is so anxious it’s like the AIR is anxious and it’s noisy and crowded and it was all I could do to keep my head down and knit and knit and knit. If you should, god forbid, ever have to wait out surgery in a cancer hospital, my advice to you is to bring a friend.
But it’s over now and the waiting at home continues on and January One can’t come soon enough. If I’m lucky I’ll have a beautiful new sweater and a healthy happy family to go with the day. We continue to appreciate and thank you for all your good wishes. Thank you. Thank you.