Pre-Op

I just realized the name of my blog is "The Next Adventure." Can this still be classified as an adventure? Can I somehow spin heart surgery to mean adventure? I don't know.

Today we were at the hospital for 6 hours doing pre-op stuff. We met with nurses, surgeons, social workers and met a mess of hospital staff. I won't go into all the hairy details, but here are the highlights (wrong word...stand outs, maybe?)

Two separate hospital staff cried with me. The cardiologist NP and the Child Life Services Worker who gave us the ICU tour. They didn't cry hard, but both got noticeably choked up when I cried. I almost couldn't take it. The empathy was overwhelming. But I was touched.

Aleida had to get blood drawn for testing and whatever they do with it before surgery. The regular nurses decided not to try, so they called in the specialist team (called PANDA- but I'm not sure what it stands for.) They had to poke my baby 4 times before they got the flow they needed. 3 times on her hands and arms and once on her head. She cried harder than she has in her life. I had to cry too, so I didn't have a more physical reaction to her cries. Again, I am amazed by the way her crying makes me feel. She seems no worse for the wear and surely has forgotten about it by now. I, however, have not.

The surgeon is British. He used the word "untoward" which I have only ever heard in movies of Jane Austen adaptations. Needless to say, I like him. He apologized for making me upset (yes, I cried with him, too), but admitted that he often said things that upset people. I am confident he knows what he is doing.

I am thankful that just about every view from every window is scenic. Even through the shimmer of tears, Mt. Hood looks awesome. Dave and I, while having a sad and heartfelt moment together, broke the gloom and tension by realizing how glad we are that we're not going through this in New Jersey. (Sorry, NJers.)

Finally, the biggest highlight- and this is a highlight- was my daughter. She smiled as much today as any other day. She sat completely still through her EKG (which requires a tech to put about 10 stickers onto her chest, hook wires to them, take a reading of her cardiac output, then unhook everything and pull all the stickers off). She took a 1.5 hour nap in Dave's arms. She melted the hearts of everyone we met in the hospital. I am sure they will all do their best to make sure everything goes smoothly.