Waiting, More damned waiting.

 The pacemaker was implanted yesterday.  The surgery was much longer than I had anticipated but went beautifully.  Hubby said that besides the "two old women who shave my private parts" there were 14 people working in synchronized harmony throughout the five hours the implant took. 

Yesterday he was pretty dopey. Because of fear of bleeding, they would not allow him to get out of bed or move around.

This morning he was plenty sore and even took heavy duty pain meds.  I've never heard him moan and complain as he did when they first asked him to sit up in bed. 

The x-ray (or something or other they did this morning) showed that the pacemaker was perfectly positioned.  He aced the test to see if it was turned on and tuned in.  The incision is actually a thing of rare beauty -- small, perfect, not even much inflammation. 

But.  And it's a big BUT.

Hubby's cretintine levels are way low.  His blood pressure continued to rise all day. It was really high by this evening.  

The cardiologist decided not to release him until we can get control of his bodily functions.  We're in a holding pattern.  Again.

I so wanted this to be the solution we had been working toward the last three years.  It may still be -- but.  BUT.

I just want to cry.