Surgery? Check.

Ahhh...... it is done.

Crew stopped eating last night at 1 a.m. and I was on the road at 6 this morning to be there in plenty of time for his 8:00 surgery. Of course when I arrived I learned that the surgery slot time was never 8, but 11:15, and that it would now be "sometime later". We gave the screaming, starving boy some pisswater Pedialyte at 8 and 10 and he was in surgery at 2.

He came through the surgery fine and the surgeon believes his chance of relapse to be very low. He is in the highest general risk category, but his specific hernias were such that we have less reason to be concerned.

I didn't realize how much better I would feel when this final surgery was over and that hurdle had been leaped. I was surprised to feel a physical burden lift off my shoulders as I walked back up to the NICU after receiving the rundown from the surgeon immediately post-op.

On a side note: the surgeons always come visit you in the waiting room and tell you how the surgery went. You can occasionally hear bits and pieces if you're eavesdropping. If anyone only heard the part of our discussion about Crew's circumcision, I bet they were wondering what the heck was wrong with my kid's tallywacker that we had to come to Primary's for a circumcision. Ha ha ha ha ha!

I quite like our surgeon. He has done all of Crew's surgeries and he is very very good. His personality took some getting used to, but he has grown on me. A lot like Simon Cowell. He's about the only thing at Primary's (other than Crew and parent luncheon) that give me warm fuzzies. We've made our peace since that first day back at at the Children's Hospital when I was so mad that I climbed up on the isolette and put him in a headlock (figuratively, as far as you know.)

I'm very excited and anxious for Crew to come home. I don't blog much lately about the constant undercurrent of frustration and irritation but sadly, it's still very much there. My latest campaign is full court rebellion against Crew's occupational therapist. Now, there is a woman with a philosophy and personality that clashes quite violently with mine. I'm revving up for a show down next week; we'll see if I can continue to diplomatically avoid it. I'm not sure that's possible at this point, so we'll see.

I want him out. of. the. children's. hospital. I don't like myself when he's there. I don't like feeling so negative and like I always need to be on my guard and braced to advocate. One of my favorite activities is to repeat back to them things that they say to me, but in a way that they can hear how ridiculous it sounds. Interestingly, they generally agree with me, but it still doesn't change anything a lot of the time. They continue on with their insanity because it's Protocol. I hate being "that mom" and I hate that I have no choice if I want to protect Crew. If I don't look out for Crew's interests, no one will. I'm out of my comfort zone having to be so assertive and I'd be lying if I said I didn't resent it. I need peace in my life. I'm still sorting through my emotions over Dex and it's made more difficult and painful when a general feeling of peace is so out of reach because of our circumstances at the hospital. I'm not strong enough to be able to distance myself emotionally from the Children's Hospital insanity and find my "chi". I miss our local hospital so much. But even more, I can't wait until my Crew comes home.

Well, that was pleasant, no? I'm tired, it's been a long day, a long week, a long 86 days. I'm so relieved that his surgery is done and we are praying he comes off the ventilator much much more quickly this time. I'm also hungry, which I will go remedy.