Monday, December 20, 2010
She wasn't as nervous as I thought she'd be this morning. But then, she's usually a trooper at the hospital unless needles are involved when she's conscious. She had already been assured that she wouldn't even see a needle while her eyes were open.
And so it was. I hobbled back to the operating room with her and her nurse. She climbed on the bed and looked up at me. They'd given her the option of going to that room with just her nurse and she looked at me. Naturally she was old enough and mature enough but was I?
No, I wasn't. So I held her hand as she was given the option of strawberry or rootbeer or orange in her mask. One nurse lauded the rootbeer odor while another shuddered and said she couldn't stand that one and orange was best.
Ash opted for rootbeer. The nurse sprayed a bit of it in the clear mask and then placed it over Ashley's nose and mouth. I watched her eyes as she breathed in and out. They switched on the anesthesia and I could smell it from where I was standing holding her hand. "Smells like dirty socks, doesn't it? said a nurse. Ash slightly nodded her head.
Her eyes had been closed but then opened. Glassy and moving---back and forth. I watched as she let go of my hand and drifted off. Ushered out to the waiting area, I debated going to the cafeteria but I already hurt enough walking as far as I had that morning so I settled into a couch, put my leg up and pulled out my Kindle. I'd read several chapters in Bush's autobiography, 'Decision Points' when they doctor came out to talk to me.
Endoscopy went well, they had taken several biopsies and we'd know the results in a few weeks. He showed me pictures they'd taken of the interior of my little girl's intestinal system. Interesting.
A bit later the surgical nurse came and escorted me back to the post op area. Ash was lying in her bed, her gown off one shoulder and looking a bit loopy.
One stuffed ducky and an orange popsicle later, she was put into a wheelchair and off we went. Picture this...I had to give her my cane to hold so I could push her wheelchair. At this point I was glad not to run into anyone we knew.
So we're home now. She's resting. I'm resting. We're glad it's over.
I do so love this child.