I woke up knowing that yesterday was going to be a long stinky day. And now, I am writing this with a hurting hear and arthritic exhausted body. Wow, is this the perfect example of stress majorly effecting my auto immune disease symptoms.
L was scheduled to have some dental surgery today. We've known about it for months. As the date got closer my husband and I fervently tried to avoid the subject while it seemed like that was all our girly wanted to talk about. Having anxiety we knew that L was going to have some problems with being at the hospital, the pre-op, etc, beyond what most kids would experience with the situation.
The positives to the visit are that The Hershey Medical Center has just
finished an entire enormous wing dedicated entirely to a children's
hospital. It's amazing. L fell in love with a painting that encompassed
an entire wall of a hallway on the first floor. It had
forest scenes painted on it, and scattered through out were trees with knotholes in them. Each knothole had a cut out, for the kids to peek into, and they could control the little video inside the knothole with a video wheel. One had a picture of a fawn in a meadow, another a butterfly and flower blooming.
My hubbster and I spent the morning (from 8:00 til 12:00) attempting to keep L relaxed, to varying degrees of success. I was squished in a chair or sprawled across an uncomfortable hospital bed with my girly laying on me for most of that time. Once it came time for her to be rolled away she became inconsolable and I found myself packed into a set of disposable scrubs and rolled down the hallway to surgery with L. Having me with her, in the OR, didn't change anything so we ended up having to "help" her take in the happy gas to put her to sleep. I don't even have words to express the horror I felt having to help hold her down while she cried and begged me to help her, knowing it was best for her. It makes me feel a little sick to my stomach just thinking about it now and a lot like I want to cry a river of tears.
L came out of anesthesia wonderfully. She made her post-op nurse fall in love with her and the mother, in the curtained room beside her, exclaim that she thought she was "so cute that it hurt". Apparently, before we came back she kept declaring, "Oh! It's over already!?!". She's completely recovered now and happily slurping up a Rita's Italian Ice.
I, on the other hand, am physically hurting and emotionally fragile.