As I filled out paperwork in the waiting room nervously pumping my leg up and down, Lin walked around the large room with Molly. Of course she was totally unaware of what was about to happen which made my anxiety worse than it had been the previous 5 days. Each day as we got closer and closer to surgery day my anxiety heightened ten fold. I don't know how parents with really sick children cope with all that they have to go through. I could have dropped my basket any second over a small, routine outpatient surgery.
We waited, nervously checking the time, telling each other that it would all be okay, all the while trying to memorize every detail of Molly's face. Every grin, every curious look and oh how innocent she is.
They called her name and we went to the holding area which consisted of several patient bays with only a curtain for privacy. The nurse turned the TV to cartoons just for her and she put a hospital bracelet on Molly and a matching one on me. She left and said someone would be with us in a few minutes.
I mistakenly put her sippy cup in a visible outside pocket of the diaper bag and boy did she throw a fit when we couldn't give it to her. We distracted her by letting her draw on a note pad and when she got bored we would let her roam the halls in her miniature hospital gown and her pink slippers. She was so adorable.
The anesthesiologist came out and explained the procedure and tried to set our minds as ease, but that was never going to happen. We would be at ease once the procedure was over and she was at home in our arms. A few minutes later a nurse came out to get her and she had to hand her over to the anesthesiologist because Molly was so strong she almost wriggled out of her arms. She cried as they took her away and I felt like I had died inside because we were making her go through this, we did this to her, we caused her this anguish. I never said I was a rational human being and clearly this is an example of why.
We were instructed to return to the large waiting room and we tried to pass the time by talking about things other than IV's, ear infections, enlarged adenoids and how much therapy was going to cost in order to get over today. Time went by faster than I expected, they called us into a family room and her doctor came out and told us she was fine and that her adenoids were indeed enlarged and hopefully this will take care of the persistent infections. He told us it would be another 10 to 20 minutes and we would be taken to recovery. We waited for what seemed like an eternity before they came and got us.
We went through the doors and immediately recognized her screams. All I could do was smile and think to myself "That's my baby." When we got to her she was screaming and thrashing around. Her face was red and tear stained and she didn't seem to be aware of the fact that we were there. They told us her thrashing was a normal reaction to the anesthetic and that she would be fine. We had to tag-team holding her because she was so damn strong we could barely hang on to her. We tried to get her to drink from her sippy but she wouldn't have anything to do with it. I held on to her and I told her over and over that we were here and that she was okay but still the thrashing continued.
The nurse had me sign some forms, she explained home care and what complications we should look for. They didn't even wait for her to eat or drink something before they kicked us out strongly encouraged us to leave. I left Lin with Molly, pulled the car around, loaded her up and left. Lin sat in the back with her to try to continue to calm her down as I drove. The drive home was long even though it only took about 15 minutes. We were relieved to walk through the door. She calmed down very quickly and was ready to eat and drink so we let her have anything she wanted.
Only one time did she open her mouth and point as if she was in pain. We gave her pain medication, she took a few short naps and that was pretty much it. She was pale and remained pale the next day but unless you knew what she had gone through you would have never guessed that something was wrong. By Wednesday morning the only trace left of her adventure was the round red marks left by heart monitor sticky's and the bruise on her hand from the IV. She is such a trooper.
Now where is that number for the therapist?
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