Tuesday was just an ordinary day.
The Girl was at college, The Boy had to work. Hubster was supposed to go over to Eldest Daughter's house to babysit the three grandkids, ages 6, 3 and 1, while their parents went to Meet the Teacher Night at school. Then he was supposed to load up all three grandkids and meet their parents at the school, where Daddy and Son would go to football practice and Mommy and the girls would go to dinner with Grandpa. I decided to work late and clear off the mountain of paper on my desk that was blocking my view of the door of my office.
That's how it was SUPPOSED to go.
Only it didn't. Not at all.
Hubster had been complaining about being tired lately. He said he had no energy. Being as he's retired now, much of the housekeeping has fallen on him, and frankly, the place has really gone downhill. When I get home from work I usually feel like warmed over oatmeal, so it's all I can do to fix dinner and go to bed. I rely on him to keep things halfway neat.
But lately it hadn't been happening.
The yard went to pot. The dishes went undone. All he seemed to do was lie on the couch and watch television. And no matter how many times I told him he needed to go to the doctor, he'd pooh-pooh me and say he was "just tired."
Over the weekend he mowed the front yard. Tuesday I chided him about the back yard and asked if he was ever going to finish it as I left for work. That's something I will regret for as long as I live.
While I was at work he did finish mowing, but even though it was a cool day he was sweating profusely. And he had a strange "weight" on his chest. He dismissed it as a touch of the flu. We'd been to our granddaughter's birthday party that weekend, and she ended up getting sick. He thought he was probably coming down with the same thing.
He went upstairs and took a shower, then took a nap. When he got up he felt somewhat better. He went to babysit the grandkids and wrestled around with them on the floor as usual. Then it came time to leave.
He loaded them into the back seat of the truck and started driving to the school, but began to sweat again. And then the strange weight he'd felt before came back, and he knew he was going to lose consciousness. He prayed he could make it to the school before he passed out.
He did make it to the school, and was able to put the truck in PARK. He took his cell phone and tried to call Eldest Daughter, but she had her phone on "vibrate" while she was meeting the teacher. He called me, but I was in the bathroom. He called ED again...no answer. He tried me again, and I finally picked up the phone.
He was barely able to tell me what was wrong. I told him to hang on, that I was calling 911 and I'd call him right back. I got the ambulance on the way, telling them my husband was having a heart attack with our grandkids in the vehicle with him.
When I called back, ED answered the phone. She stayed with him while I drove the 30 minutes to the hospital, calling The Girl, The Boy, and Son to let them know what was going on. The Girl had her boyfriend drive her in, Son came in from three hours away, and The Boy made it in record time from his job at another hospital. ED called Eldest Son and his wife, and all but the out-of-towners were there before Hubster went into surgery.
Yes, it was that fast.
He had a 100% blockage in his right coronary artery that apparently went to 99% after he was given baby aspirin to chew in the ambulance, according to the doctor. This allowed for some blood flow to the area of his heart that needed it most, minimalizing the damage that could have been done. Two stents were placed, and he was out of surgery and in ICU around 9:15 p.m.
The whole thing took around three hours from the time he called me to the time he ended up in ICU. It seemed like three hundred years.
Tomorrow, barring any complications, I'll bring him home to our less-than-perfect house. I'll scrub the toothpaste out of the sink after he brushes his teeth. I'll wait for his phone call if I'm two minutes late. I'll readjust the steering wheel to where it should be after he's driven my car, and I'll listen to him say, "What's for dinner?" again.
And I'll never, ever, be more thankful to do those things than I am right now, because I GET to do all that. I have the PRIVILEGE because he's still alive. God used this to teach me a simple lesson.
I so love this man.
Hubster is the heart of my heart.