Well - I haven't updated this blog in a LONG time. Years actually. But I figured tonight was as good a time as any given the day's events.

Tonight, my father had surgery to repair his heart valves. I've never been particularly talented with biology, so I forget whether or not it was his aortic valves, mitral valve (just had to Google the name of that), or both. But it was a serious surgery that involved the repair of one valve, and replacement of the other with a biological (bovine) valve.

Now that we're done with the Science Channel explanation, let me tell you about my day.

I woke up at about 9 (ok 9:30), showered and ran out the door to the L train. Went crosstown, then grabbed the A train to Columbia Presbyterian. As I arrived at his room, it was already empty. He had been brought down 2 hours early for the surgery, so I rushed down to the level where he was being operated on and luckily - I hadn't missed him yet. He was being prepped, and my sister, her husband and my Mother were all around him. He looked nervous, but maintained a calm bedside manner.

As the anesthesiologist went down everything that could wrong (a terrible thing to do 5 minutes before the surgery), my father looked on worried. I told him he had nothing to worry about, told him I loved him and kissed him goodbye as they did the final prep. He had one of the best heart surgeons in the country (same guy who worked on President Clinton in 2004), so I didn't feel disingenuous when I said he'd be fine. However, as I tried to appear calm, I was worried. This was certainly risky surgery, and my father was 65. I'm not a religious person, but I was as close to praying as I've ever been in my life.

Luckily, everything turned out fine. About 4 and a half hours after he had gone in, the doctor let us know that it was a routine operation. We got to visit him 2 hours later in the ICU. He looked better than we were expecting. His face was flush, and though there was a breathing tube coming out of his mouth and a tube still going into a vein in his neck, the nurse assured us he was doing well. My mom blew a kiss to him as he lay unconscious as her eyes teared up. I held back my tears if only to assure my mother that he would be just fine. Sometimes you have to hold back your fears to help those most afraid, and I hope that my Bush-like single-mindedness help out my mother today. She was certainly scared, and I did everything I could do - with my father as my role model - to act as I imagined he did when I was in the hospital and he was there to comfort her.

I did have someone there who helped me a bit today. I met David a couple weeks ago at a bar of all places. He's an anesthesiologist at the hospital, and actually works in the ICU where my father was taken after the surgery. He took the time to check on my father, let me know he was doing well, and made my mother's night when he told us that the breathing tube was taken out after we had left (which is a great sign of progress). We've only been on one date, where I was nervous and paranoid. Even after all these years, I'm still handling being able to deal with showing affection to a guy without being trashed and in a gay bar. But I have a feeling with David that he's really someone special. No one's been this nice and caring to me in a long time. It feels good, and hoping this turns into something because - like he said - I'm not single by choice, and it's about time I grew up and dated a good guy like he sees to be.

And that's all for now! Time to go see why my dog is whining like a little bitch.