We had booked an Uber to take us to the Mazankowski Heart Institute at 5.30am on the Friday. My wife didn’t need to drive and park on top of everything that was to follow this day.

We held hands in the car, didn’t really talk and like all life partners simply squeezed each other’s hand to give reassurance and speak a silent, “I love you.”

It was dark still as the car quickly took us through downtown Edmonton to cross the river to towards the University and the Hospital.

Thankfully it was cooler this morning as we were all masked up due to COVID-19 precautions. I was finding it hard to breathe with the anticipation of what lay ahead and the mask together with my worsening heart condition.

As we drove through the empty streets I knew that the personal messages to my wife, my kids and closest family would be automatically sent in the next hour. I hoped that I had done the right thing by sending those emotional messages but it was now something that I could not stop anymore.

Most of the hospital entrances were closed so we had to walk from our drop off to find out how to get in. Eventually we found our way and needed to take the elevator to the upper floors and the pre-operation wards.

My wife suffers from vertigo so when we saw the glass elevator that we had to use, my heart fluttered again. More stress for her and for me as a result of her anxiety. Again, she was so strong and we reached the secure doors.

We had to wait for the admission and to go over the paperwork, confirm my identity and health insurances and then to be barcoded. Moments later we were at the bed and I had to change in to a surgical gown.

With all the impact of the Pandemic, many of the usual procedures have been adapted and some of the surgery preparation work completed at this moment. The Nurses then shaved off all my body hair in the areas that the surgeons would need access to.

It’s funny, it was only at that point that you fully understand the extent of the physical impact that was coming up. The shaving seemed to be never ending. My legs and ankles, my groin area, my chest and my wrists - all taken off and all areas where they would soon cut or penetrations made in to my body.

I was prepared with pink sterile solution across these parts of my body and I was ready for the procedure.

At that point there was no more physical contact with my wife. I remember my mind frantically recalling the last time we touched, holding on to that memory. I was trying not to think that it could be my last...

It was then suddenly peaceful, hushed quiet on the ward as the initial rush to prepare for me and the other patients came to an end. The light was clean and white as I gazed upward from my lying position, at the image in the ceiling they give you to look at.

Are you okay..?

Was all that my wife and I could say to each other with our eyes above the masks, as I lay there in the silence.

My mind was empty at this point, the usual mental chaos that spins around in my head suddenly ended.

It seemed only minutes later that the porter arrived to take me to the operating theatre. The corridors in the hospital were dark and cold as my bed was pushed along to the next space. It was dark outside, the sun only just about to show as I passed through the last windowed corridor.

There were several patients waiting in this new ward space near the theatre. Each one of us had our chosen loved one alongside but now they too were covered in hospital gowns. Some were quiet, the occasional nervous joke, just an awkward moment.

I was visited by the Nurse who would be managing the next steps, then the anesthesiologist and finally my surgeon.

The surgeon confirmed that the plan for a quadruple bypass surgery using arteries and veins grafted from my chest and in three places from my leg.

...but also one that their team does every day.

And then with a fleeting “love you” to my wife, the trolley stared to roll to the operating theatre.