As I write this, Kim is sitting next to me, sewing bits of felt into the shape of food, because it’s something to do with her hands and because she is addicted. We’re sitting in an out-of-the-way waiting area in the children’s hospital of the Cleveland Clinic. Our daughter is an hour into surgery to close up her cleft palate. She has half an hour or an hour to go.
This is, as you might imagine, rather stressful for us.
The surgery itself is no big deal. The only part of the palate that’s open is the soft palate, toward the back of her mouth, so it’s a pretty simple procedure as these things go. And the guy performing the surgery is the head of the plastic surgery department so, you know, he’s qualified.
But she’s our kid, you know? And right now she’s completely in someone else’s hands, in a situation that, while routine, still has room for mishap. She’s completely under, and has a breathing tube taking care of that respiration thing for her. I have a beeper in my pocket (a beeper!) but no other connection to her or what’s going on. So forgive me for being a little tense.
I need to go distract myself now, because I don’t have felt food to do it for me. Will update when I can.
She’s in good hands now and she will be in good hands after the surgery is over. I know you know this, but sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else.
Love you guys. Hang in there…
So, what now? The “tuckered” fb post was “post”, right? Is Eleanor on a strict ice cream diet for a week? Can we come too? Ha ha. You survived. Congratulations. My first thought is you may have been feeling a little like I was before Amy married Michael: giving up one we love to the care of another. Do I understand you to say this will be her last surgery?