It was almost 11 last night when we were cleared to leave recovery, and taken to a bed on the Peds floor. Dad had to leave to head back home before the next round of snow began. After all, he needed to have a car ready for our (hopeful) Valentine’s Day discharge.
So we settled into a tiny, awkwardly laid out room. trying not to disturb a roomate who likely would have preferred not to be awoken at 11 to share a room with someone she didn’t know.
By that point I might have been a little difficult. (I know that is SHOCKING!)
But as we settled into the room it became apparent that there was no place to walk safely. Some rearrangements were made, and the reality that she couldn’t possibly see the TV was softened by Amazon Prime (on demand) on the laptop.
She was hungry. At this point she was close to 24 hours with no food. I try not to let her go four hours. Her stomach needs constant gentle reminders it hasn’t been forgotten to keep it from getting angry. They said soft and clear. We tried apple juice. Then they offered an italian ice with soy protein. Not so much. Another juice I was told. And I should have trusted myself.
Soon after came the familiar green face from the child with a body full of toxic anesthesia crap, AND apple juice – which just isn’t on her list of beverages.
She is always my angel girl. Even post op – she got herself to the pail before her body forcefully removed its toxic contents.
I took the opportunity to change the gown and bed sheets, because – why not? And by midnight she was on my laptop watching “The Hunger Games.”
They said clear liquid. I said ginger ale and gluten free pretzels. I win because I don’t ask. And she started to perk up.
Pain medicine in place, she enjoyed the movie. Except the blood draw. Which fortunately was through the IV. Then again an hour later. (Good thing she wasn’t asleep) only to find out her blood sugar was crazy out of whack. The finger stick brought it into a much more normal range. Thank goodness!
By 2:30 there were actually 5 uninterrupted hours of sleep for my exhausted girl.
She awoke at 7:30 immediately remembering the pain of having your throat slit open, and a small lumpy organ removed. Today things were more stiff. All the local anesthesia gone. She was hurting. And its a hurt I remember. So it broke my heart worse. You never realize how many things you use your neck for, until…
Brave girl. Held it together. Had some more of her pretzels and ginger ale, and even some of her chicken breast I brought.
We wheeled and dealed and got her to agree to a nap after her second movie. And so she rests now.
Calcium levels keep us here. Wondering and working to determine parathyroid damage. The synthroid has begun.
The doctor will set us up with restrictions, rules, and orders. When he’s able.
For now our chart reads “Pending Discharge.”
We are ready, and I am behaving…. I promise.
Ten years ago we spent Valentine’s Day in the hospital. And here we are again. What a decade. It’s not glamorous by any means – but I am still with the loves of my life, and that makes me a lucky gal.