The next day we waited around the hospital more or less all day waiting for the transfer to happen. We were told it would be happening within the hour, so we all piled into the room next to my father in law's bed to wait with him. 5 hours, a closed highway and a flat tire later the transfer ambulance arrived to take him away.
My family lives about 45 away from us, which happened to be 2 minutes away from the hospital the surgery was being performed at. My parents are amazing and let 5 of us (plus the Munchkin) stay there while Grandad was in the hospital. We had no idea how long we were going to have to stay, as there was still no surgery date. In the mean time he was stuck in another over-crowded emergency room until a bed opened up somewhere else in the hospital. The surgeon came and met with the group of us and explained the surgery and all possible outcomes. He was hoping to fit him in one evening over the weekend, but it was likely he wouldn't get in until mid-week. At this point we still had no idea what was actually in his brain causing the seizures. The surgeon suggested an abscess, a cyst, or a tumor either benine or malignant. He wouldn't know anything until they we in the OR. We spent the weekend focusing on the best possible outcome, cancer was not an option.
Finally on Monday the surgery was scheduled. When we got to the hospital that morning there was a little X drawn just above his temple where the surgeon planned to start.
Now, I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but our family is a little bit nutty most of the time, and these series of events proved to be no exception. When it was time for him to go into surgery we were all over the hospital. My mother in law had gone down to his old room to get something or ask one of the many questions she would ask that day. The rest of us were waiting outside of the room where he was being prepped, waiting for her and for him to be wheeled past so we could give him a little love before the surgery. It was time for him to go in, and she still wasn't back yet. This is where we get our crazy on. He had to be taken to the OR, and there was another waiting area we were supposed to be in, but MIL would have no idea where to go, and tends to panic easily. As he was wheeled through different doorways and turned down various hallways one of us would break off from the group to act as a marker for MIL. By the time we got to the waiting area there were just two of us left. The remainder of our little entourage was spread throughout one entire wing of the hospital. The three of us left gave him hugs and waved as he was taken into surgery.
Shortly after the rest of the family caught up and we sat to wait. Thus began the great iPhone Scrabble marathon of 2001.