This morning I got up and realized that I didn't want to head to my Dad's tonight. I still had too much work to do for Sunday, not to mention laundry and various other things that needed to be done. I called him and told him we'd leave early tomorrow morning, take him shopping in the morning as planned, go to the shower for my future sister-in-law, and then come back home tomorrow evening. Daughter was a little disappointed when I explained the change in plans, but I assured her we'd still get to see everybody and that we'd get to sleep in our own beds instead of on a couch and a recliner.
I got to the hospital before 9:00 this morning for these surgery one of the saints. He was supposed to be there by 8:00, but hadn't arrived yet. I sat and worked on my sermon until a little after 9:00, when I went up and asked again about his whereabouts. He still hadn't arrived. I tried his wife at home and on her cell. No answer. They decided to track him down. His surgery had been rescheduled for afternoon, they thought around 2:00 or 2:30.
I got in the car and headed back home. As I pulled into the driveway, I remembered that there was a man from out of state over at the church with our historian seeking information on his family. I went over and joined them. I finally had to offer my apologies and leave, as I needed to get back to the hospital if I was to see the saint before surgery.
I got back to the hospital and found the people I was looking for. The surgery was scheduled for 3:00. I sat talking to his adult children, and a little before 3:00, we heard them call his nurse to the desk for a phone call from his surgeon. They all got the deer in the head lights look on their faces. This surgery was necessitated by a botched surgery that was delayed and the surgeon looked tired when he began, and didn't finish until 10:00 at night. They said, "It's happening again."
At 3:30 the nurse came in and explained that the surgeon was tied up with an emergency. They were admitting the man overnight, and rescheduling the surgery for 8:30 tomorrow morning. I called and explained to Sister that I wouldn't be coming. She wasn't very happy. She told Dad, and I will call him and talk to him some more later.
I called Daughter and told her we weren't going to see family. She was very unhappy until I said that this poor man hadn't been able to eat anything since last night because he was supposed to have surgery this morning. Her frustration disappeared as her compassion appeared. I'm so proud of my healing RAD who has learned to have compassion for others. We haven't talked about the fact that this means I'll be dragging her with me to the hospital bright and early tomorrow morning. I told her I hadn't had any lunch, so I was going to drive through Fazoli's and get an early supper. She gave me her order.
As I was almost home, I heard back from the nurse at the Psychiatrist's office. I had called this morning, and apparently Psychiatrist had forgotten to tell her she needed to contact Neurologist about the Depakote. Neurologist approved it, but cut the starting dose way down and said it should be given in the evening. Daughter just completed a major cleaning task in the kitchen, and we're off to Town to pick up the new prescription.
It has been a very long day, and I still haven't gotten any of the things done I need to do for Sunday. This is one of the challenges of ministry. You can plan everything out perfectly, but then you have to be prepared to throw out the plan when other things come up. Daughter has an appointment about 2/3 of the way to Dad's apartment on Wednesday afternoon. We'll go up and spend the night with Dad after the appointment, visit Mom, and take Dad shopping Thursday morning before we head back home. Of course, as Brother pointed out when I called him to tell him we wouldn't be coming, that is assuming that the saint survives the surgery tomorrow morning.....