I’m too tired to go into much detail, but Me Too had her surgery without any major problems today.
I got there, after last night’s trauma, to find her giggling and carrying on with the girl across the aisle. So I guess my rush to leave the house by 6:30am this morning wasn’t in actuality necessary.
The other girl was also having the same surgery, and she went first. It was supposed to take two hours. Three hours later, she still wasn’t back. A nurse comes to explain that the surgery is over, but she hasn’t come out from the anesthesia. Three and a half hours later, two nurses come back and say the same thing. The other mother starts pacing the room. I hear her go to the bathroom. She splashes her face with water. She paces the hallway, but stops abruptly at the glass door dividing the children’s ward from the maternity ward (her daughter was born there.) She paces some more.
They ask me to take Me Too to the play room. Lunch is coming around, and she can’t have any. Not to mention that the lump in my throat is growing with every footstep that echoes on the dingy linoleum. A few minutes later, they call us to go to the OR. The nurses are overly cheerful. I am, somehow, barely holding it together. Me Too waves bravely to us as the automatic doors close between us.
HRH and I return to the children’s ward, where a few minutes later the mother of the other girl carries her into the room. (It’s been four hours at this point.) I couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to cry, big ugly snotty sobs that come out all the louder from trying to hold them back.
Me Too was finished more or less on schedule, though by now I have mentally prepared myself for a longer wait. She came out of surgery and we went with her upstairs. She was very upset and adamant that she must have some water NOW. The IV bothered her. Her throat hurt. Her nose was bleeding.
I’m usually very good in a crisis, basically because I have to be. But as I was standing there trying to comfort her, on three hours sleep, having had pie for dinner the night before (long story) and not much yet that day, and feeling incredibly guilty that we had out her through this, I started to hear a sound like a waterfall in my head, broke out in a cold sweat, and was suddenly surrounded by nurses shouting and telling me to sit down.
It’s not like my corset was too tight or anything. But there I was having a spell like a good ole Southern Belle, without my handkerchief when I needed one a la Scarlet O’Hara.
So after last night’s crying fit leaving Me Too and today’s festivities, I think I may be the resident loon. Oh well, I guess I won’t have to worry too much about my own behavior for the rest of her stay.