This weekend has been awful.

This morning when I woke up from (finally) a good night's rest, I got a telephone call from my mother. She said, Martha, listen to me. Gene died. And I said, what? She said, Gene died. I'm going to the airport with your father right now. And I still didn't understand. I asked her, you mean Gene Critelli died? And she said yes.
Apparently this conversation between people was had all day long all over the place because no one could believe that this really great, 54 year old man could have checked himself into the hospital Saturday morning because he felt funny, would in less than 24 hours have a massive heart attack and die. Apparently the people at the hospital thought that he had serious indigestion and just kept him hooked up to all sorts of monitors to make sure everything was okay. We were told that he would probably be released today.

All of us are in complete shock. Gene was my mother's boss but also our friend. He called on Martin to deal with his computer issues all the time and we celebrated New Year's at his house this last January. He and his wife are great people and I hoped that one day I would be able to gather the money to take flight lessons with Gene because I had heard over and over what a fantastic pilot and instructor he was. Anyway, I'm sure this is going to affect my parents much more than me. My mom saw him every day and my dad would go over there and bring doughnuts to the office often. This is just so sad.

Meanwhile my aunt is in the hospital. Since my parents rushed off to the flight school this morning to meet with people, I spent the day at the hospital until about 5 pm. I went over there to wait for doctors and give them the third degree. I was there when the principal orthopedic surgeon came and he explained to me what was going on, why he thought things were going well previously, and what led him to believe that something wasn't right anymore. So after talking to him at length, looking at x-rays with him and such, I understand why it is that my aunt is having these problems. His brother yesterday wasn't quite as forthright, but today this guy drew diagrams, wrote words on the board, explained things clearly- he's a lot like a good teacher you could say. So I felt much better about it. I also explained to him that my aunt wants to go through with the surgery despite the fact that she could die. He understands apparently just as well as anyone else that just being in pain whether you are sitting, standing or lying down isn't a great option. So apparently even though all her medical doctors think surgery is extremely high risk, they're going to do it again at 5:15 p.m. tomorrow. So if any of you reading this pray, I would appreciate it if you would say a prayer for my Aunt Ofelia. She could really use it. I imagine that if she really wants to live, to deal with this all again, that she'll make it through. If she doesn't want to deal with it, then I think she'll pass on. From what she's saying, she wants to live. Even though the odds are so bad, I really feel like I'm going to see her through this again. I might be wrong. But I think sometimes it doesn't hurt to be an optimist.

I guess that if things don't go well, I'll at least be consoled knowing that I was definitely there for her when she needed me the most.

Martha at 7:08 PM