It was a long, tough morning but Miss Camille pulled through her surgery well and I don’t think any of us have permanent scars. I think the worst part for her was that she was hungry and couldn’t eat and certainly didn’t understand why we weren’t giving her a bottle of milk and some cheese toast.
We got her up a few minutes after 6 to take her to the hospital, and she was so cute and snuggly. She was content to rest against us with her head on our shoulders and sigh and grunt and do all the cuddly things sleepy babies do.
Once we were taken to our pre-op room, she started to wake up more and get agitated. We read her book after book which kept her from crying, until it was finally time for them to take her back around 8. That was hard, watching them wheel away holding my precious girl in her little hospital gown with her polka dot pajama pants peeking out underneath. But at the same time, I was just ready for it to be over.
Lee and I watched the clock. I made coffee because it gave me something to do. When they paged us, we eagerly found our post-op room and waited for her to arrive.
They wheeled her into the room in this metal crib and she was lying face down on a pile of blankets, whimpering. It was the saddest thing. When I started to pick her up she began to cry, her eyes still closed, clearly not wanting to be messed with by another stranger. Then, she looked up and saw her Daddy and me, and her cry changed. It was a wail, but the kind that says, “I know you, where were you? Fix it! Fix it!”
For what seemed like ages, she cried and sobbed and cried while Lee and I tried to soothe her. They said she shouldn’t be in any pain, but I wasn’t so sure. They wanted her to drink apple juice and pedialyte, even though I tried to explain she HATES pedialyte, and this made her even more angry. The doctor said she’d gotten “pretty upset in the back,” and I felt so sorry for her. It must have been frightening to be in an operating room with strange lights and sounds and people, with no familiar face in sight.
This was the hardest part. I was so glad to have my little girl back in my arms and to know she was safe, but it broke my heart to see her so upset. She seemed traumatized.
Finally, a nurse brought us a couple of packages of graham crackers. As soon as she gabbed one and shoved it into her mouth, she began to calm down. By the second bite, her breathing still came in little sob-like gasps, but she wasn’t crying. A few seconds later, she popped another cracker into her mouth and gave the nurse a big grin. The transformation was miraculous!
Apparently, my baby was hungry.
Once we got her home, she perked up and seemed like her old self again, although a little worn out from the ordeal. She took a big nap, then we went out for ice cream and some grocery shopping, then played at home and took a long stroll. We got lots of laughs, smiles and hugs. Her Daddy and I are worn out too, but I’m just so glad it’s over. I hope and pray the tubes do the trick, and we are done with ear infections for a while.