Sometimes things are for your good, to protect you, but they still stink. Such was Evie's bladder surgery this past week. It will protect her kidney, but it's just yucky and not what a parent's heart wants for their two year old.
Thankfully, though, she IS two. So, she had the surgery and now she's back at home playing, and finding her new-er normal.
Evelyn is a fighter, and our urologist heaven sent, so we knew she'd be just fine. We surrendered to the wisdom of a doctor and packed her owl backpack. We asked for prayer and Team Evie prayed in force.
We checked in early in the morning, on strict no food, no drinks orders. No idea what was happening, her only concern was wanting her sippy. Next was some waiting and pre-op dr talks.
Soon enough, she was made loopy by some meds. And oh how she was loopy! Her little head was bonking walls and she giggled with eyes glazed over.
When it was time to begin, they let us carry her to the operating room doors. With tears in our eyes, we held her. We held her for Wednesday and for every other hospital day that we'd missed.
A few hours later, they rolled her back in, surgery and test complete and successful. Our Han HuiZhen woke up crying, chugged a sippy of water, spit up a sippy of water, sucked on her ever present lovey, and then felt fast asleep for a couple hours.
She snoozed, played, got her vitals checked 156 times, and watched Elmo's World for the rest of the day. Encouraged to try to get her to eat something, we ordered a menu of hospital cafeteria delicacies that we hoped would tempt her tummy. Not impressed, Lay's Classics were the only thing crossing over those little pink lips.
As is typical with her whispery, barely there veins, the IV machine alarm went off repeatedly, each time with a nurse coming in to readjust and re-tape. By that night, this momma was tired and apparently grumpiness was just below the serene surface.
I had to do some nursing of my own with her that night, which I had been dreading. My medical ROCK was back at home making dinner for the rest of the littles. Nurses were in and out with various bags and supplies being brought in and ripped open, trying to be helpful, but none of which were anything that I was used to. Concerned about hurting her and calculating our "medical supplies" tab, the emotion started to build.
An hour later, alone with a girl with a wound in my arms, and IV poll dragged across the room, wires twisted and two bags of saline solution all over the floor, the nurse entered and received every ounce of stuffed emotion from the day.
I'm thinking that was no surprise to her, because she calmly mopped up the floor, brought clean blankets, asked what I needed, and repeatedly called me "Mom". So undeserving of my verbal yuck, she received 23 apologies. In my mind, I was already planning the family "take a treat to the saintly nurses" service project.
Bedtime came as a release. I spooned myself up a big spoon of grace, tucked in Evie, laid down on my couch to bed conversion, removed my pillow pancake from its plastic bag and counted some sheep.
The next day brought more Elmo's World, more Lay's Classics, and more vitals. By that afternoon, Evie was making some calls trying to get somebody, anybody, to start discharge.
A thousand thank yous to Aunt Jen for watching the rest of the team for a couple days so Evie could have parents standing by her.
Thanks to all of you for praying. Every single one was felt and appreciated. Our prayer now is to stay infection free and for long-term healing and miracles. Believing for it and feeling grateful.