Operation day


Today was an interesting, dichotomous experience. 

It was a sunny day with rain clouds filling the sky,  but sprinkling only a dash of rain in the afternoon, hardly enough to call it rain in the end.

My day reflected the weather. 

A little rain fell, but the sun broke through the clouds and reminded me of all the wonders in the world. 

Today was another day of surgery, one year and one month since the first time I brought my precious baby to have her tonsils removed. 

I was flooded by memories of the last time I spent in the short stay unit, 

sleeping in the narrow cot, curled around my small, pale child, providing warmth and all the love a mother can to will her back to health.

 Not a doctor in that moment, just a fragile woman praying for their heart to stay whole.

Today was different. 

She was vibrant and bouncy, and completely bored and hungry by the time they wheeled us into the OR.

 A short and easy procedure, only a few minutes to endure before she woke up, drugged and as irritable as a teenager.

Many videos of small baby animals later, the smell of the gas finally fading from her breath, we were allowed to leave.

She ate an entire container of sushi from the cafeteria, a jello, and a cookie within an hour after surgery. My little child who weighs 36 pounds ate more than I did, post op, and without any issues. 

She was well, and happy, and the day to her was a glorious one at her favourite place that has video games and toys. 

She has no bad memories of the place and was comfortable with blood pressures and nurses and protocols. 

I marvelled at the resilience of childhood, 

how they can experience the ultimate in complications and bounce back with a smile, while I still shake thinking about it. 

It reminded me again that, 

though rain may fall, the sun will return, and dry up all the rain. 

Maybe that silly spider knows something after all