There was hug; a deep soulful pull. It was an attempt to meld one body into another, the very essence of fusing heart mind and soul of one person to another. First with his mother who held him tight, and then with his father even tighter, and finally with resignation on his face and a tear in his eye, he sat down in the transport chair and was wheeled back into another operating room. And this is how it happened at 3:15 pm on a damp and dreary afternoon of Friday, the 13th of March, 2009.
In the hollow emptiness of the waiting room, mother and father held each other as the tears flowed. Consolation was impossible, never had they seen their little champion with a heart the size of Montana share as much as a frown let alone a tear before a surgery.
The beauty of an early surgery is the lack of time available for anticipation. In this instance, the length and complexity demanded a later start so that other cases would not be bumped if Evan’s took extra time. The reality is that Evan’s time was bumped to accommodate emergency operations. Asked not to eat since midnight, arriving at 11:45 am, and then having to wait until 2:30 to get ready allows two primary thoughts to spin inside the mind: 1. This will not go well. 2. I am so hungry; I would risk aspiration pneumonia for a burger.
Neither is an option, and the surgical team is the epitome of professionalism and the essence of great bedside manner. We will update more as we get more information and the time to put finger to keyboard.