Surgery, Family Reunions, and Various Other Tortures
We've barely been at home at all this last week, and the messy post-vacation clutter covering every available surface in our house is a pretty accurate representation of my tired brain. First and foremost, E--'s surgery went well, and it is such a relief to have that done with. I was so worried about how things would go, and the thought of her going under general anesthesia was absolutely terrifying. Luckily, I was distracted in the days leading up to the dread event by The Psychotic Circus Otherwise Known As a Family Reunion With My In-Laws.
It was fun getting together with the siblings and their families, plus my mother-in-law and her new husband and a couple of old people who only speak Spanish thrown in for good measure. And by fun, of course, I mean incredibly strange and wacky and a little bit frightening all squished together. It took me a long time to get used to the dynamics in my husband's family, and after five years I still don't quite get them. All seven of the siblings have very strong personalities that are endurable one at a time, but when you get them all together everything all of a sudden becomes very very loud and also loud. Did I mention loud? The loudness is extremely loud. The first few family reunions I attended at my mother-in-law's house, I had to take frequent breaks in a quiet corner somewhere to regroup and allow my eardrums to heal. But as the family has grown, so has the need for space, so this year we all rented a big house on a very tiny beach. There was the familiar singing of John Denver songs, the annual cooking of the famous family pizza, and of course the requisite family dispute wherein one or more persons become horribly offended and/or yells loudly enough to wake everyone up on both floors. Ahh, good times.
We returned home from the reunion Monday afternoon, and found that our poor cat had been locked in our bedroom.
For. Three. Days.
Cat pee everywhere. But mostly on our mattress. So gross.
E--'s surgery was scheduled for 12:30 on Wednesday afternoon, and she wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything except water after 4:30 am. I decided wake her up at 3:00 in the morning to feed her a snack and some milk. This ended up working out really well, because she then slept in late and the hospital also called and said they could get her in a little early. We spent most of the day at the hospital, checking in at 10:15 and not leaving until 4:15. All in all, things went very smoothly and quickly. The hardest part for me was when we went back into the OR to put her to sleep. I was able to go with her and hold her while they held the mask over her face. She played with it for a minute until she realized that they were actually trying to do something to her, and then she started crying. They took out her binky and held the mask over her nose and mouth while she cried and struggled. Luckily she went to sleep quickly, and they laid her on the operating table with her blankie. I kissed her cheek, went out into the hall, and broke down into tears. The absolute powerlessness of handing over your baby to people you've barely just met knowing they're about to cut her open is devastating. Even thinking about it now, with everything already done and over with, is upsetting enough to make me cry.
We wandered the hospital during the two-hour surgery while the doctor repaired her nerve, tendon, and muscle. The nerve was completely severed, and the tendon was almost completely severed, with just a thin string holding it together. (The doctor showed us pictures he took during the surgery, so we got to see the before and after. Gross, but interesting!) They used a microscope to stitch everything back together with dissolvable thread, and then they covered her entire arm, fingers and all, with a huge cast that reaches up to her shoulder. We'll go back in 3-4 weeks to have that taken off and check on her progress.
While the hardest part for me was watching her go to sleep, the hardest part for E-- was waking up. She was groggy and disoriented, confused and scared. She would alternate between thrashing around crying, and then suddenly dropping off to sleep. After about 2 hours she was finally pretty calm, and she chugged an entire bottle of apple juice which met the required amount of fluid intake, and allowed us to leave the hospital. She fussed on the way home, but after she ate a snack she perked up quite a bit.
We left the next morning for a short vacation with my parents in beautiful Winthrop, WA. The timing was stressful, but we figured since E-- was on medication for pain it would actually be a good distraction for her. We had a blast, even though it RAINED THE ENTIRE TIME. The most exciting part was when her cast started to separate in the middle, and we had to buy some packing tape to hold it together. She looks like a ghetto baby. Hopefully I'll get her into the pediatrician ASAP tomorrow morning to fix that.
Thanks for all your prayers and good thoughts for E--'s surgery. We made it through the worst of it, so let's just keep our fingers crossed for a quick and uneventful recovery! That's totally going to happen, right?
Right?
It was fun getting together with the siblings and their families, plus my mother-in-law and her new husband and a couple of old people who only speak Spanish thrown in for good measure. And by fun, of course, I mean incredibly strange and wacky and a little bit frightening all squished together. It took me a long time to get used to the dynamics in my husband's family, and after five years I still don't quite get them. All seven of the siblings have very strong personalities that are endurable one at a time, but when you get them all together everything all of a sudden becomes very very loud and also loud. Did I mention loud? The loudness is extremely loud. The first few family reunions I attended at my mother-in-law's house, I had to take frequent breaks in a quiet corner somewhere to regroup and allow my eardrums to heal. But as the family has grown, so has the need for space, so this year we all rented a big house on a very tiny beach. There was the familiar singing of John Denver songs, the annual cooking of the famous family pizza, and of course the requisite family dispute wherein one or more persons become horribly offended and/or yells loudly enough to wake everyone up on both floors. Ahh, good times.
We returned home from the reunion Monday afternoon, and found that our poor cat had been locked in our bedroom.
For. Three. Days.
Cat pee everywhere. But mostly on our mattress. So gross.
E--'s surgery was scheduled for 12:30 on Wednesday afternoon, and she wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything except water after 4:30 am. I decided wake her up at 3:00 in the morning to feed her a snack and some milk. This ended up working out really well, because she then slept in late and the hospital also called and said they could get her in a little early. We spent most of the day at the hospital, checking in at 10:15 and not leaving until 4:15. All in all, things went very smoothly and quickly. The hardest part for me was when we went back into the OR to put her to sleep. I was able to go with her and hold her while they held the mask over her face. She played with it for a minute until she realized that they were actually trying to do something to her, and then she started crying. They took out her binky and held the mask over her nose and mouth while she cried and struggled. Luckily she went to sleep quickly, and they laid her on the operating table with her blankie. I kissed her cheek, went out into the hall, and broke down into tears. The absolute powerlessness of handing over your baby to people you've barely just met knowing they're about to cut her open is devastating. Even thinking about it now, with everything already done and over with, is upsetting enough to make me cry.
We wandered the hospital during the two-hour surgery while the doctor repaired her nerve, tendon, and muscle. The nerve was completely severed, and the tendon was almost completely severed, with just a thin string holding it together. (The doctor showed us pictures he took during the surgery, so we got to see the before and after. Gross, but interesting!) They used a microscope to stitch everything back together with dissolvable thread, and then they covered her entire arm, fingers and all, with a huge cast that reaches up to her shoulder. We'll go back in 3-4 weeks to have that taken off and check on her progress.
While the hardest part for me was watching her go to sleep, the hardest part for E-- was waking up. She was groggy and disoriented, confused and scared. She would alternate between thrashing around crying, and then suddenly dropping off to sleep. After about 2 hours she was finally pretty calm, and she chugged an entire bottle of apple juice which met the required amount of fluid intake, and allowed us to leave the hospital. She fussed on the way home, but after she ate a snack she perked up quite a bit.
We left the next morning for a short vacation with my parents in beautiful Winthrop, WA. The timing was stressful, but we figured since E-- was on medication for pain it would actually be a good distraction for her. We had a blast, even though it RAINED THE ENTIRE TIME. The most exciting part was when her cast started to separate in the middle, and we had to buy some packing tape to hold it together. She looks like a ghetto baby. Hopefully I'll get her into the pediatrician ASAP tomorrow morning to fix that.
Thanks for all your prayers and good thoughts for E--'s surgery. We made it through the worst of it, so let's just keep our fingers crossed for a quick and uneventful recovery! That's totally going to happen, right?
Right?
September 11, 2005