600 days, 13 hours, 7 minutes, 51.9 seconds

Nearly 10 a.m. They've been here since 5:45. She's not allowed to eat or drink, but all he's had is orange juice. Niether of them got enough sleep last night. He dozes beside her. She figures she'll get enough sleep after surgery, fights to stay awake. She suggests he at least go in the family waiting room for coffee, but he says he's okay. He'll go out after they take her to surgery, maybe find the hospital coffee shop. She tells him of the good places along First Avenue. She knows them all, since she used to teach right near here. Alzheimer's patients.

It's almost 11, not almost 10. She read the clock wrong.