It's been the longest day and yet the shortest day of my life. I just returned from having dinner (both of our firsts meal of the day) with Daddy Bean. We were supposed to have this dinner with friends, but given the lack of sleep and the anxiety, we canceled knowing we wouldn't be great company tonight! Over dinner, we discussed how much more difficult surgery or procedures are on Andi, compared to last year. Last year, she wasn't the little personality and love that she is today. Which only makes it that much more difficult to go through this with her.
Andi has developed a cold of some sort. The surgeon came in with a rather large entourage to discuss the precedure, the plan, etc. this morning. He concluded that prior to doing the g-tube revision, he wants to rest her stomach, i.e. the reason for the NJ tube he asked for. Therefore, he suggested that since everyone was in agreement that the NJ wasn't going to be a good all-around solution for her at this point, they suggested doing a central line and putting her on TPN This will give her the calories, yet, rest her stomach from working, and she'll have a port for blood draws, when they need it. So, since she has a cold, needs her stomach to rest, they decided that a central line was the way to go.
ENT felt that despite her runny nose and cough, they wanted to continue with their game plan of ear tubes and the choanal atresia revision/enlargement. So, we had those three things done today. After 3 hours, I went up to the surgery waiting area reception to ask for an update, as I hadn't heard from the nurse. She showed Andi in recovery. She tried to call them for the update, and got no answer. So, as she went back to see how she was, she came back out and called us back.. She said, 'you have the small baby right?" "Yes!" So, she ushered us to recovery room bed #1 and presented a child that wasn't ours. I said, 'that's not my baby, but that one crying next door is..." I look over and despite the screen can see them working on Andi, whom is crying her tired like voice out. It was awful. The receptionist asked, 'can the Mom and Dad come back right now?' the nurse stammered 'no!' So, we walked back out, but what I'd seen was much too much. I started to loose it on the way out. Daddy Bean wrapped his arm around me and some nurse asked, 'is everything okay?' to which I replied a heart felt, 'no!' We were ushered into a private conversation room. A few minutes later, that same nurse came to find out what happened, who we are and and who our child is. She got the data and went back to check on things. By this time, the situation had been resolved, so not only did we get to see Andi, I got to hold her too.
Andi's pain management was rather slow at the start. Since coming back from dinner, that seems to be worked out. She's resting at about 90% asleep. She's been on O2, because she feels pain and she 'bears down' - causing her o2's to sat. She's been weened off the o2, but for now, it's important.
I'm so tired that I'm starting to write sentences that not only make no sense, but they're completely wrong too. My eyes are crossing. So here it is 7 p.m., and I'm ready to drag myself to sleep.
THE TPN will be started soon. It looks like a margarita bag, but smells like a dirty bellybutton. It's awful. This will start as a continous feed, and we'll work o becoming less than that. She will be on that for a few weeks, total, we hope. Her dietican said that she'll likely start gaining weight immediately. Can't wait for that!
I must sleep, I can't even keep my eyes open!