It was a year ago today that I dropped Wolf off at the hospital for scheduled, but still life-saving, heart surgery. (Bicuspid aortic valve not shown.)
His bravery was business-like; it needs to be done, so do it. Simple. Mine was the kind that acknowledged the fact that one possible outcome was cataclysmic but improbable and that I was powerless to influence the result, but I somehow got through the day anyway.
The blood was all his: he barely avoided getting a transfusion.
His body had betrayed him, and no longer felt like home. Still doesn’t, not quite. He’s off the other meds but will continue to get regular blood tests and take blood thinners.
But I still have my beloved, and that’s the most important thing on this, his re-birthday.
The Sinful Sunday theme today is “the letter B“.