Surgery, and the waiting game

My husband just went into surgery. He has a cyst on his tailbone about the size of my hand. He is nervous because of the possible complications  with anesthesia. Of course, I am telling him he will be fine, but he keeps saying "just in case..."
I don't want to hear that. No one does. He is being practical  of course. He is being the adult. The conversations in the waiting room are all groups of people being adults. Being practical. And I want none of it.
I have to wait 2 hours. That it how long this is going to take. 2 hours without knowing what is going on in there.
My mother can tell you, I am no good at waiting. For anything. I would make myself sick waiting for things; from Christmas to birthdays to tests to vacations, if I had to wait for it I got sick right before it.
Which is why I pushed this out of my head until this morning. Which is why I didn't eat anything solid to throw up later. Which is why I am sitting here with my stomach twisted in knots and refusing to go potty because if I leave they will come looking for me.
I hate the waiting game. I wish they would have let me go in with him.