The Patient

The patient fared well yesterday.  I'm beyond glad that it's behind us for her sake.  I know without a shadow of a doubt that this was much harder at Towns' age than it was for Cate when she had the same surgery as a baby.  It physically hurt my heart to see her apprehensive about it since she was old enough to know what was going to happen.  At ten months old, Cate didn't know what was going on before, during or after.  It's been a different story this go 'round, but she's doing good and getting loads of TLC and attention!

We were up around 4 a.m. and on our way to Huntsville to get the much dreaded show on the road.  It didn't take long to get her admitted and back to the pre-op area.  I could tell she was feeling uneasy...

She watched Netflix for a little while...

That's when I asked if she was ready to get into her "sunshine bag" from her precious friend Mary Bibb.  She gave her a bag full of individually wrapped goodies for her to open while we were waiting.  It worked like a charm and kept her mind off of everything...

She really loved her teen heart throb magazine and told us that she's "going to Hollywood, dahling" in the most dramatic Zsa Zsa Gabor voice while raising the roof.  Hilarious doll face...

When we were first called back to pre-op, we found out that she had been moved from the 1st case to the 2nd case.  That wouldn't be a big deal had she not been begging for something to drink and couldn't have it.  That, and the fact that the longer the wait meant the more worried she'd be.  I prayed so hard that somehow she wouldn't have to be the 2nd case.  Low and behold, when Dr. Gilbert came in he told us he had no idea why the order had been changed and told the nurse to move her back to the 1st case.  Praise the Lord!!

She was given the option of walking back to the OR on her own or driving a purple princess car.  She chose the car, naturally, and a sweet nurse came in and gave her her very own drivers license...

Finally, it was time.  This was gut wrenching for me.  She hopped in the car and everyone helped get her situated...

And off she drove not really realizing that where she was headed was to the operating room...

At this point I was a puddle.  I stayed calm and held it together while she was with us, but as soon as I saw her turn the corner in the purple car and was out of my sight I completely lost it.  Now I know what you're thinking.  Dramatic and overboard.  Yes, I probably was.  But even though this was a minor surgery and all, it's still my baby.  My baby whom I wanted to hold and never let go of!  I tried so hard to keep myself occupied while she was in surgery.  They have a "flight board" that lists the patients by their assigned number (a number that's burned into my memory) and tells you where they are.  You know what's not fun?  To see:

1466872    OR

For about 45 minutes straight.  I know it was that long because I looked at it every other minute.  I must have worn a path in the carpet between my chair and that flight board.  Meanwhile, J had found a Starbucks in the hospital.  He knows me well.  I was thrilled and relieved when I saw:

1466872    PACU

Which meant she was finally out of surgery and in recovery.

Shortly after, Dr. Gilbert came out and told us that she'd gone through it beautifully.  It was funny to hear him say, "we gave her a big slug of antibiotics while she was under."  Made us feel right at home with the slang!  A nurse came to get us and told us she was awake and eating a popsicle.  We were prepared for her to be out of sorts which is how the girls have been every time they've ever had anesthesia.  Alas, not this time.  The nurse said she'd told them her life story.  She told them she had two sisters and a cat that was sort of ours, but not really ours because it roams the neighborhood.  Sweet girl!

When we got back to see her you couldn't have pried us off of her.  I don't think I've ever been so happy to see that little love!  Her daddy fed her so she wouldn't have to lift a finger...

The first thing she asked for was her peace sign fake fingernails that Mary Bibb had given her.  Who was I to tell her no in a time like this?  So right there in post-op I put those fingernails on.

She was not so thrilled to have to ride in a wheelchair when it was time to go home.  She fully expected to be able to walk (one day she'll kill me for this picture)...

And I fully expected her to crawl up in the bed with me when we got home and sleep for at least an hour or two.  Cate had stayed the night with her friend Ella (and was convinced she was the biggest, baddest four year old on the planet because of it) so we had the house to ourselves for a little while.  No nap for us, though.  She was wide open and for the rest of the day was determined that she felt good enough to do whatever she wanted to do.  So we made brownies (her friend Conner brought her that bunny along with flowers and sweet card he made that said she was his "rainbow of colors" - precious)...

And maybe, just maybe, I let her lick the bowl!

She rode her scooter (against my better judgment) and ended up chasing down the ice cream truck...

Today she's paying for it.  I'm trying to make her stay in one spot in the bed or on the couch, but it's a tough job.  She's walking hunched over because it hurts too bad to stand up straight.  And she's 100% against taking any medicine.  Bless her little heart.  She thinks she's going to be back at school tomorrow.  I'm praying that she feels that good, but we shall see...