Post Op Day 2

Shorter, less well thought-out update tonight as we are just...pooped. 

The last 24 hours were a bit of a doozy.  Pain got a little out of whack last night, we lost both of her peripheral IV sites which were our ticket to a morphine bolus to calm the storm, she got emotionally looped out on valium , and we finally got an IV line back in about 2 a.m.  So grateful for her night nurse, Ash, who loved on her through it all. 

As I mentioned yesterday, the girl likes a plan, and well, so does her mamma.  We had trouble pinning down a plan today, which rattled me more than I like to think it would have. Attempts at getting her bluejay blue casts on today were a bit thwarted.  Her left foot incision was draining too much for progress in that department, and though her right leg got casted, it had to be slit later on in the day due to swelling---I mean vibrant colors are great, but purple feet generally don’t bode well in the long run, so the team thought it best to try to prevent that from happening.  She did not end up getting her epidural pulled since we will have another running jump at casting again tomorrow.  This means she still has a catheter and hasn’t yet made it out of bed. 

Confessions of a mama striving to be authentic and okay with vulnerability:  I miss our nursing family and the set-up at Shriner’s so much, and I’m having a hard time getting past the fact that we aren’t there where we were for her rhizotomy.  Transition is hard, and we are in the middle of the muddle where Shriner’s is still trying to transition the care of all of their operative patients over to Gillette and move their services to an outpatient setting.  This has led to a bit of confusion among members of the cast.  Still, we have had some great people to work with here.  The bright spot was certainly our new friend, Laster, who is the resident Master Caster.  He was just the feel-goodest guy, at his trade for 24 years, so svelt with a carpet knife thingy and a cast saw that nobody even flinched when he revved it up and came within ½ inch of Camille’s leg.  And indeed, his name is Laster.  It turns out he was the last of 16 children, and his mother named him Laster as she fully intended him to be…the last.  I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.  Plus the name just reeks of character and fits him like a glove.   

We are so grateful and humbled and wow-ed by all of the messages of support and all of the special shout-outs from all of her/our people.  We’ve had a hard time keeping up with messages, but please know that our hearts weep a little with gratitude for each well-wish and caring vibe.

Tomorrow is a new day.  The perhaps lofty goals are to get casted, get that epidural out, get the catheter out and get out of bed to start working on transfers.   Maybe even get out of this room.  That’s a lot of outs.  A shampoo would be a big bonus.  Good thing she fell asleep early watching basketball; it may be a busy day.