Wednesday morning Steve and Renee left NYC and I moved from my west side fantasy apartment to Renee’s east side New York apartment. Robin and I west out for a long walk in Carl Schurz Park along the East River. Everything seemed fine, but when we returned she said she thought there was something wrong with her right breast. We went to the doctor’s office where they diagnosed a hematoma, squeezed it out and sent pictures to Dr. A., who was in surgery all day. By six that evening she had heard from the doctor and we went back to the hospital. She was taken to the OR at 8:30, her reconstruction was opened and blood clots were removed from her newly attached veins in another four and a half hour surgery.

I was frantic. Up front the doctor said it would be about two hours. When we got to four my imagination was running rampant. Finally, another half hour and I was told she would be in the recovery room for hours. I got back to the apartment about 2am. I was ready to return to the hospital at 8, but Steve called. He had heard from her; she was still in the RR on clear liquids, so I could forget the food I had carefully packed, and they were keeping her on her back. No need for me to rush.

It was raining buckets; our spring in January was over so I went back to sleep for half an hour and then the sun came out. When I got back to the hospital they were trying to decided whether to go in again and remove the graft. As of this morning they have done nothing more and are hoping the veins will function. Steve returned yesterday afternoon and went to the hospital early this morning. It’s a good thing I can live with uncertainty; I’d be nuts otherwise.

I’m off to the hospital now.