Cortlan's surgery update

What a whirlwind the past week has been!  From getting observed by my principal on Friday to prepping for a sub to cover my classes for six periods; from trying to figure out what to pack for a weekend away that included a 77.7 mile relay race in who-knows-what weather to driving to the race, running the race, and driving home; from stocking the house with popsicles and applesauce to waiting for hours to be called back to surgery...I have been busy.  And a little stressed.  But here I sit, at 10pm, in room 718B while Cortlan sleeps peacefully.

I hear a baby crying not far outside our room.  I have been told that we may still get a roommate tonight.  I expect that the nurse will be arriving around midnight to bring Cortlan his next dose of Tylenol.  I don't expect to have a restful night's sleep.  But I am thankful.

Upon arriving at the hospital this morning at around 11am, we checked in and sat down to wait to be called to our next destination.  Shortly after, a woman and her son came in and sat nearby.  Her son looked to be about nine months old; he had on glasses; he had Down's syndrome.  I said, "Look at those awesome glasses!  What a cutie pie!"  And he truly, truly was absolutely adorable.

I talked to John a bit about whether Everly was going to be able to come to visit.  The woman told me that they are great with siblings here; she and her other two sons have spent quite a lot of time here.  In fact, her husband and she had tried to total up the number of hours and came to at least six solid months worth of hours.  The conversation led to the fact that this baby is her second special-needs child.  That one of his older brothers was born normal but at about 15 months old developed some problems and that they came to discover that he has a rare and incurable disease; he is four now.  That this little guy is actually 15 months old, not the 9 months as he looks, and that he is about to have his second open heart surgery.

I tried to hold it together as best as I could as we continued to talk.  She was a beautiful woman and smiled through our entire conversation.  She was calm and matter of fact and hopeful as she explained to me some details.  I had to turn away to wipe a tear at one point.  I was amazed and inspired by this mom, whose name I will never know.

As we waited for several hours more than anticipated before being called for surgery, I was astonished that Cortlan never once mentioned that he was hungry or thirsty.  It had been at least five hours since his last drink of water and his last food was almost 20 hours prior.  I was starving and had to sneak down to the cafeteria.  He calmly found things to do in the activity room - he watched TV for a bit, we played a game, he made a bracelet, and more.  The time didn't bother him in the least.

I kept wondering what had happened that got them so far behind schedule.  I prayed that everything was alright, knowing that somewhere in the hospital, a beautiful little boy with the cutest Baby Gap outfit was having open heart surgery.

We finally got called back.  Cortlan was given the option of walking or riding the bed back to the surgery room; he preferred to walk.  I immediately got changed into my snazzy white coveralls, cap and booties, and walked back with him.  He climbed up on the table and the anesthesiologist gave him some choices of where he wanted to go on his imaginary trip today.  He chose to go to space, and the anesthesiologist proceeded to  put on Cortlan's "astronaut mask" and tell him a great story about flying to space and about the planets.  I held his hand while he slowly drifted off to sleep.

In no time at all, we were told that the surgery had ended and that it had gone very well.  Soon enough, the doctor was with us, showing us pictures that were taken during the scopes and explaining how things had gone.

His trachea was narrow enough to warrant a smaller-than-typical breathing tube for the intubation, but not quite as narrow as in December.  His adenoids, which have always been expected to be large but have never actually been scoped, were blocking 80% of the nasal passage.  They are now gone.  His tonsils, which were visibly huge, were ranked on a scale of 0-4+ as a 3+ at the time of surgery.  They are now gone, too.  We anticipate the sleep apnea will be eliminated by the surgery and that his breathing and drainage and speech will all be markedly improved.

It is morning now, and we are waiting to hear when we can be discharged.  Cortlan ate a nice meal of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, jello, and applesauce last night, and we watched Hotel Transylvania.  At midnight, he got some medicine to help with pain.  At 3am, we got a roommate who seems to have appendicitis.  At 4:30am, he got more pain medication.  At 6am, a doctor spoke to me, and at 7am, Cortlan woke for the day.

He is having some pain, but is tolerating it well.  We went to visit the playroom, where he made a sun catcher and fed the fish.

We are thankful to be under such great care in such an amazing facility.  We are thankful that it was only tonsils and adenoids that brought us in.  We have the adorable baby boy with the glasses on, and everyone else we have encountered here, in our thoughts and prayers.  We are headed home shortly.