We are home now and resting. Our day started about 5 a.m. (who am I kidding... I didn't sleep!) and surgery began at 7:30 a.m. You know you are becoming too familiar with the routine when you put on scrubs and escort your baby into the surgical suite. Still I respect this team so much for honoring my son's comfort and giving me the peace of staying with him until he is gently sleeping. Then the waiting begins. That's the hardest part, watching the clock and every time the doors swing open you look for a familiar face to bring news. Will it be successful, have we bought some time, have we waited too long? News finally comes. A lot of stuff in his ears and a totally collapsed eardrum; it is sucked in and immobile. The surgeon spends 20 minutes just freeing up the eardrum. The t-tubes don't fit, so we have to try the grommet tubes again and the surgeon hopes the eardrum will reanimate but he is guarded and he begins talking about the next surgery where he will attempt to drill the bone. I shut my eyes, block out the information, because today I can't hear it. Today I want to be optimistic and I want to go hug my little boy. In recovery he is having a hard time waking up and he is in tachycardia. His heart is racing up above 148... he keeps scrunching his face but he looks good and his sats are good. I talk to him and his heart slows a little, then he scrunches and it is back up again. This goes on for a while; I'm not sure how long and then there is a smile and a..."love you."
