One Tough Mother!

Ahhhhh, three hours of refreshing tossing and turning for me, and it's back into the fray.
I'm hoping for Cathy to be up and fully conscious when I get over there in a little while...my coffee is still working its way through my veins...and I won't be able to see her until around 7 or 8, so I get to vent some of my anxiety.

It's still too early for her to have visitors, but the conventional wisdom is that she might be able to leave ICU later today or sometime tomorrow (she's bringing the average age of ICU patients down by about thirty years.)
She is in the 5th floor ICU, and I will be camped out in one of the ICU waiting rooms on the 5th floor.

Cathy had two fairly mild (they tell me) siezures yesterday afternoon, but doesn't seem the worse for them (those were the unexpected, but not terribly unusual, events I mentioned yesterday.) I was able to talk with her after each of them, and she said she remembered them. The doctors did a CT scan and didn't see anything that caused a lot of concern (for them!)
Cathy didn't seem to have any lasting damage from the experiences.
I was in the room for both of them, and I can't say the same for me.
Utterly. Terrifying.


I spoke to Kathleen Jones last night and she told me that Cathy had wrapped presents for the kids to have waiting for them when they got home from school so that they would get a little morale boost.
Hearing that reminded me a couple of things:
1. Cathy is one of the most giving, compassionate people on the planet;
2. I married waaaay above myself!

I have gotten emails and calls from friends, family, former bosses, my father's college roommate, and people I don't even know thanks to this blog being spread by emails and word of mouth. I have gotten two emails from a Norbertine Priest , Fr. Hugh Barbour, that saw the calls for prayers from Matthew Lickona's blog, and has promised the prayers of his community in California.

Cathy's mom and sister spent the day at the hopsital before driving back to Greenville, SC later in the afternoon, and my Mom and Dad spent most of the day and evening with me too. My Uncle, Jim, who, with my Aunt Giulia, have both worked at Emory for about 40 years each, was kind enough to sit with us a lot too and hook me up with a lot of people who kept an eye on Cathy.

Our home, which is usually bustling with activity and the banshee screams, crying, light-sabre battles, and questions of little ones is now as quiet as a monastery. The toys that I always complain about tripping over are all put away, and everything is clean and in it's place.The only sounds (other than the voices in my head) are the clicking of the Basset Hound's toenails on our wood floors.
This is no way for a father and husband to live, and please God, I won't have to endure this for too long!