Rhett's Surgery

So, it was finally here.  The day we had unexcitedly been preparing for.  Neither Scott, nor I slept one wink that night.  Rhett on the other hand, slept “like a baby”.  The alarm went off at 5:00am.  I just laid there…maybe if I just hide under the covers the day will pass me by and we won’t have to go.  Scott put Rhett in the bed with me and kept telling me we had to get up and go.  So I did what any adult mother would do, I held Rhett as tightly and closely as I could and refused to go.  Scott just looked at me like, “oh crap here we go again”…and oh yes, we went there… again.  I started crying and I was serious business, I was not getting dressed, I was not getting in the car and I WAS NOT TURNING MY BABY OVER TO ANYONE.   We had a hostage situation.  Scott did what Scott does best, he very slowly and carefully moved away from the situation without any sudden movements.  He knew from past experiences, any sudden movements or loud noises could cause a riot and he has been trained intensively on how to react in these situations.  He told me he was going to pick up my Dad from his hotel and he would be back to get us and he quickly bolted for the door.  So I sucked it up, released my tiny hostage and got with the program. 

We arrived at the hospital, got checked in and they called us back.  We went to the pre-surgery holding area, which basically looked like “the pit” on Grey’s Anatomy.   I do need to add the funniest part of the whole day, the Nurse Practitioner went to put Rhett’s security bracelet around his ankle and it was too small.  My Dad was quite amused by Rhett’s little tree trunk leg.  I was hoping the surgical gown they had waiting for Rhett would fit or we would never live this down.  Scott and I dressed him in his new little outfit, which for once was too big.  By this time, the fact that he had not eaten in awhile had started to sink in.  He was looking for anything he could get in his little mouth that had any sort of taste…so what does he grab???  His toe of course!  He was sitting there sucking on his toes, and would look up at me like these things have no taste…is this all ya got Mom?  We did everything to entertain him and finally I passed him over to Scott and he gave up and went back to sleep.  The surgical team started to come over and introduce themselves, go through what they would be doing while in surgery and answer any questions.  We spoke with Dr G and she assured us this was going to go perfectly and not to worry.  We signed our life away and it was all coming to a head.  My stomach sank…I knew what was next, relinquishing my tiny baby to them.   Dr G finished going over everything and said she would see us after surgery.   The anesthesiologist team came over to get Rhett and take him back.

WAIT…what?  No, we aren’t ready yet!  There is no way I can even describe what this felt like.  I knew I would never officially be “ready” for them to take him back, but I needed more time.  Here we go yet again…the tears start pouring down my face, the anesthesiologist holding Rhett was a young, sweet girl named Sarah.  Sarah turned back cradling Baby Rhett, trying to be as nurturing as possible to him turned back and asked if I wanted one more kiss. 

So I got my last little kiss, they took him away and as the doors closed behind them I was hysterical.  All the “What if’s” that had been running through my mind for the past several months, were getting louder and faster.  Handing your sweet tiny baby over to someone and not knowing if they are going to bring him back is the worst feeling in the world.  What if something happens?  What if he goes in there and comes out a completely different baby?  What if he is allergic to anesthesia?  What if they get in there and it is worse than they thought?  What if he doesn’t wake up?  The “what if’s” went on and on and were beginning to get ridiculous.  “What if the Dr has a heart attack?” We went into the Family Waiting Area and I was prepared for a long day.  We were originally told to expect the surgery to last 8 hours.  So I just knew by the end of the day, if I continued on this path my head was going to explode from all the noise. 

It was too late any way, they had already taken him back and whatever happens at this point is out of my control.  So we now all I can do is wait….and wait…. and wait.  The nurse would call in and give reports of how he was doing every 90 mins.  As I was listening to her make her rounds with her reports for different patients, I noticed it was always the same report.  Then I started to think…”Well if it is bad news, it isn’t like they are going to tell this chick and she is going to give us some horrible report.  That is the Dr’s job…right?  She is pretty much giving everybody a standard report.  Then my mind starts up again...

The nurse made her way to us to give us the first report.   “The incision was made at 9:29 am and things are going well.” 

The next report came an hour and a half later and she said “Things are still going great”.

All this waiting was starting to wear me out.  I need a real report…a detailed report…could you just put me on the phone with this surgical nurse reporting to you?  Or send me some sort of picture?  I need a little more detail than “things are going well”.  She was a very nice lady, probably someone’s sweet grandmother, but I wasn’t looking for a sweet lady to feed me the standardized report she was giving all the parents impatiently waiting for their children to get out of surgery.  Of course, she probably wasn’t given any details and I am fairly certain if she did know that something horrible went wrong, we would all be able to read it plastered all over her face.  She just kept her happy little grandma smile.  I decided right then and there someone needed to lobby for stressed out Mommy’s who children are in surgery for this new “Obama Healthcare Plan”.  We need some sort of clause (we can even call it the “Elizabeth Law”) that states:  Any mother/father or legal guardian should be given a menu to choose from that consists of a variety of drugs/alcoholic beverages to calm their nerves while waiting for their child in surgery.  It should be something similar to ordering sushi, where you are given a pencil and a piece of paper filled with different options, you check what you want and they deliver the goods.  My order would have been somewhat of a cocktail consisting of Malibu Rum & Coke…scratch that I need the good stuff, make that Crown & Coke and just surprise me with a narcotic that will blend well with the drink.  And make it snappy!!!   Another 90 minutes passed and our little smiling grandma came bouncing around the corner with that same genuine smile.  “I have good news…” she says happily.  “The sandwich lady will be here shortly and she has a brown bag special for $5 and she will only be here for 5 minutes…that’s not long, so you better get there quickly!!!”  Are you freaking kidding me????  No, I don’t want a stupid sandwich, granny…I want a muscle relaxer …where is the drug lady???  When will she do everyone in this area a favor and show up with a brown bag special?  She would definitely be “good news”…not some dried up sandwich lady.  Seriously!  I felt like ripping my hair out at this point…sandwich lady!  Really?  (See the need for the “Elizabeth Law” that needs to be in this Healthcare plan everyone is so fired up about!)

So finally she came around with our “Rhett Report”.  She told us Dr G. was getting ready to suture him up and she would be up in about 45 minutes to go over surgery with us and then we could go to recovery to see Rhett.  Scott, my Dad and I just looked at each other…that was much quicker than originally planned.  This most likely meant good news.  So Dr G finally comes up and has a a very pleased look on her face.  Finally, some reassurance that this might end well…

She walked up to us smiling and says “I did a phenomenal job!”  It wasn’t cocky when she said it either…she was just stating the facts.  Besides, if she was being cocky…she had every right to be.  SHE JUST REBULIT my tiny baby’s spinal cord and did not paralyze him in the process.  I felt the weight beginning to lift off my shoulder and I could suddenly breathe.  This woman is my hero and a MIRICLE WORKER.  She went over all the details of the surgery, but I will just break it down for you like this:

Basically she got most of the tumor out, while leaving all nerves intact.  She had each nerve on a monitor that alerts her if she gets near it while removing the tumor…and she happily reported the sensors never made a sound!!!!  She freed the cord, rebuilt the end of his spinal cord and everything seemed fine.  His dura (what holds the spinal fluid in) was not damaged by the tumor and only had one small hole in it, which she repaired.  He has 4 layers of stitches to keep everything that is supposed to be inside, inside and things outside, out.  She didn’t think we would have much to worry about as far a re-tethering, but we still needed to keep an eye out and watch for any symptoms.  All in all, she felt she did an excellent job and he would recover quickly.  Next we were on to meet our sweet little baby in recovery.  To Be Continued…