Recovery

I'll get back to the story and finish where I left off...but I will spare you with the boring details (Yay!), or so I hope.

After talking with Dr. Jea, we were brought to the Pediatric ICU room where they took her to recover. It's so scary to see someone who just came out of surgery. I.V. fluids made her puffy all over. She had on an oxygen mask and this plastic thing in her mouth that kept her from biting her tongue. The tape they used to keep her eyes shut and stick on electrodes during the procedure gave her an allergic reaction. So it was a little disconcerting to see that she had open wounds and blisters on her face from the tape. Plus the fact that she was totally and completely sedated and wouldn't open her eyes didn't help either. She was under for so long that she didn't even flutter an eyelash when I spoke to her and told her I was with her now. Scary. But they told me she was responsive and the sedation would wear off in a few hours. From there we would see what temporary damage the surgery had done to her motor skills--none we hoped.

Mike stayed by her side all night long; in a chair with blankets and pillows to keep him comfortable. Maysie (my stepdaughter) and I retired to a room on the 4th floor at the Ronald McDonald House.

This is such a cool organization. Ronald McDonald house has a wing at Texas Children's Hospital for the families of patients who are in the ICU. The rooms are first come, first served on a waiting list. You can only check in at 6 pm and must leave by 11 am the next morning. The rooms are tiny, but the bed is comfortable. If you're lucky to get a room, you might actually get some rest and a shower. We were fortunate that a room was given to us that night; but on less fortunate circumstances. Mike met a woman whose son had been in ICU for seven weeks. Countless surgeries later, she stays by his bedside nightly. We pray for them too.

I couldn't get to sleep that night. It was 2:30am by the time Maysie and I finished talking and she went to bed. I was too wound up to lay down. We had to evacuate our room on the 10th floor after Emma was taken to surgery, so everything in the room was in disarray. Family and friends had moved all luggage, get-well gifts, balloons, stuffed animals, etc. to the room at Ronald McDonald house. I organized everything. It was the only way I could create a sense of control in a world I couldn't control.

I think I may have slept for 3 hours; weird dreams that I couldn't remember, too. Before even getting out of bed, I called the ICU and spoke to the nurse. "She's doing great," she said. Apparently, Emmy could talk. She had asked for "ice cold water," (a famous Emmy saying), and felt the bandages on her head. "What IS this thing," she asked. She was able to move her arms and legs. "I couldn't keep the blankets on her," Nurse Megan said. I was so overjoyed.

When I got there, she still had not opened her eyes. With assistance, Nurse Megan opened her eyelids and showed us that her eyeballs were rolled back. With effort, she could bring them down to see us. This was a temporary thing and her eyes would get better soon.

The next day, Mike said he awoke about 4am to find her on her stomach, angry. Her legs had gotten caught in the bed rail as she tried to escape the hospital bed unsuccessfully. "I want to put my shoes on and water the plants," she said clearly, an activity she and Mike shared regularly. She had also asked to go to Starbucks to get some Pumpkin Loaf, her favorite. How funny. I was so impressed--asking for Starbucks right out of surgery. She is her father's daughter that's for sure. We were on our way to a good recovery, no doubt.