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Thursday, July 7, 2016

An Uncommon Bond

Oni took The Amazing Bob and I to the hospital for his 10:30 AM appointment on Monday, June 27th. Not only did he drive us into Mass General (the ride in Oni’s car is significantly more smooth – it would be MUCH easier on TAB’s bones and easily upset tummy), he went into the office to get the news with us. Jen and he planned this knowing this would be a hard appointment — TAB’s cancer had, all of a sudden, begun a scary acceleration. Oni was there for emotional support and to catch all the info I missed.

So he was there in the ER when TAB had that insanely massive heart attack. Oni was there when TAB flatlined and was raced back to the Bring Him Back From The Dead ER team. He followed me as I ran after TAB’s nurse propelled flying wheelchair.

Last night, nine days later, was the first time we talked of that horrific event. We traded memories of:
* Witnessing the swarm of medicos descend like an angelic version of Hitchcock's birds into TAB’s rescue cubby.
* Watching the three CPR superheroes tag teaming my man’s return from the dead.
* Oni listened to the lead doc directing the fast and furious Save TAB’s Life-a-thon. This ER Stokowski was on top of everything, ahead of each angle, conducting a resuscitation symphony.
* There was the intern, by my side, who keyed the play by play into a text doc on my iPad.
When TAB was, more or less, out of the woods, we were allowed to go in and see him. He was conscious. I found a spot on him, not covered in tubes and electrodes, kissed him and whispered I love you.

Oni and I were moved to a room with couches where two very nice volunteer ladies babysat us until Doc Drachman could come talk with us. I was freezing and shaking like a full blown Parkinson’s patient (the tremors, an artifact of my last big brain fry up, flare in stressful times) – they brought me warm blankets and spoke slowly and smoothly. They wrote shit down for me and arranged for a Skype-like set up with a ‘terp for when Drachman came to speak with me.

Before they moved on to their next hand holding mission, one of them told me she thought my sense of humor in the face of trauma was wonderful (it's a hardwired reflex is what it is) and she liked my color sense. Yup, that last bit struck me as a sort of odd thing to say at a time like that BUT it helped. It was distracting. It was nice. Smooth Jedi move, Lady.

While this was going on, Oni was on the blower to Jen, Miles and Celeste – sounding the alarm, giving them the 411, bringing them on deck.

That bond that Oni and I now share? He and I, together, watched TAB die twice in one week. On Monday, July 4rth, along with Miles, Bethanie, Celeste and Jen, Oni and I once again watched TAB exit stage left.

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