The surgeons have done their part

The waiting is the hardest part.

It was hard for Annie to wait for today to arrive, yet the hardest for me was simply waiting for surgery to finally be over once it began. One can assume Annie had it worse. She prepared well for it however, with a couple of select treatments yesterday at the St. Julien Hotel’s spa, her favorite. So she came into today with as much of a relaxed mind and body as one could expect.

She arose this morning at 4:45, a feat as you well know, so she could check in and start surgery prep at 6am. They like beating the sun to work around here. A steady stream of surgeons and nurses swung by pre-op to talk through various aspects, draw on her chest with a magic marker held by cold hands (I think this is a prerequisite to medical school graduation), and give her the big thumbs up as they wheeled her away from me and into the OR.

The waiting.

Whoever first said patience was a virtue was delusional crackpot.

At least waiting ends at some point, so I was relieved and thrilled to finally get word (sooner than expected) by the vibrating phone in my pocket. All was going well, reported her breast surgeon, who saw nothing unusual during the first part of the surgery. The plastic surgeon was currently doing her part, and would be finished with this initial stage in an hour or two. About 12:38, not that I was looking at my watch or anything, the plastic surgeon called with further good news…she was out of the OR and would soon be waking up.

As I write this she’s still in the PACU awaiting (there it is again) a bed to open up upstairs. People love staying in the hospital apparently. Maybe it’s the food. Yeah, probably not. Her nurse Laura is doting on her with ice chips and freshly warmed blankets, as she slips into and out of sleep. Mostly into. It’s a big deal being under for so long, and the body takes a while to recover from such an assault. She woke up once and whispered it felt like there were a ton of bricks resting on her chest. This is a common reference among mastectomy patients.

But all is well and going according to plan.

Your continued love and warmth make us feel so good. Every time she’s woken up I’ve been able to relate yet another friend checking in to see how things are going. So thank you. It means more than you know.

Callie wondering where her Momma (especially her lap) is.