I am about to fall asleep at the keyboard, so forgive me if this has more typos and is even more loopy than usual. S went in this morning for an 11:30 check in time to have her surgery. She was a trooper and an awfully brave young woman. The IV stunk, as they all do, and the first attempt ended with a blown vein. It probably didn't help that she tensed up like mad and could've squeezed a lump of coal into a diamond in about half a second. Second attempt was fine. They took her to another floor to give her the happy juice in her IV. It gave her a little bit of peace, but it didn't help with the tears and worry when they took her from us. That was tough. After about two and a half hours of surgery, the doc came in and told us that she did fine and that the surgery went off without a hitch. She would be returning back to
her room after 40minutes in recovery, so we headed on up to her room. Bless her heart. She was so disoriented and sore when she got to us. Her nose bleeds on and off, which freaks her out. She had a hard time getting comfortable. A trip to the bathroom proved to be a mess when she got queasy on her way back to bed and had a moment of stomach weakness. Apple juice and crackers mixed with blood and sinus drainage, well, it was gross. She was mortified. All was fine and she got a new gown and linens. She's now resting with IV fluids, antibiotic and the hopes of more Zofran very soon. She is my hero. All my children are. They handle situations like this with so much more class and bravery than i ever could. I am so very grateful for the gift of being their mother.
Here's praying for a quiet night and no more True Blood-esque vomiting episodes. Bless her heart.
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