Surgery Update

Well, the mission was not scrubbed and Grace was carried into the operating theatre at 8:40 this morning. If you have ever watched your child succumb to the anasthetic in the mask, you know that it is guaranteed to induce instantaneous weeping.

After the weeping portion of our day was complete, we commenced with the sitting around with people whose loved ones are far more fucked up than ours portion. We met a couple from India whose 23 year old son was having his spleen removed (again I wonder what a spleen actually does. Can't be much if they are removing it). They talked of their sons and extended family who are all here becoming doctors, computer specialists, & engineers. Basically the schools mentioned were Stanford, MIT, RPI, Michigan, & Carnegie Mellon. They were proud parents, even considering the spleen situation.

Dr. Hanna sauntered in after 2 hours to report all had gone according to plan, where he sprung it on us that she will have to come back in 3-4 weeks to have a stent removed. Again I am stumped. WTF is a stent exactly? At least he says the surgery was a success.

We get sent to our room, which if you work in the movie business, you will understand reminds me of a honeywagon room. Essentially we are placed in a room with 4 beds. There was an hispanic baby and his mother in one quadrant watching Univision at 100 decibels from the moment we arrived until when I left at 9PM. I tried a little counterprogramming with the MacNeil Lehrer News Hour to no avail.

In the other bed was a baby of 1 1/2 months who was alone all day, occasionally letting out the most helpless cries. She was subjected to several x-rays from a mobile unit at one point and all the adults were ushered out of the room. The technician didn't seem to worry about the babies though. Hmmm. I am desperately hoping to see a parent by her side in the next 2 days.

Grace, meanwhile began the long slow recovery, with the aid of 1mg of morphine and the tender touch of her mother (dad assists with a random game of peek-a-boo). She is hooked up to a catheter and a urine collection bag, some other blood/goop collection thingy, and an IV hooked to her left hand. She and her mother are attempting to survive their first night (I was kicked out as they only allow one parent to stay). I am constantly surprised by just how loud a hospital actually is. between the constant din of televisions (which in the pediatric ward are burned in to either Disney & Nick Toons channels) and the beeps and blips of machinery, the chatter of nurses, the toilet right next to Grace's bed always flushing, did I mention the eff-ing television, the flourescent lights that never go out, not to mention the vinyl chair that allegedly folds down into a bed. It's wonder anybody ever gets well there.

Time for bed as I don't want to miss my wake up. It would be bad form to stroll in at 10AM.