A little over twenty four hours and Pip will be going in for surgery again. I honestly have been feeling much less anxious than last time. I'm sure that will be a different story Monday morning.
I had a follow up with my pulmonologist yesterday. The one that was in my SICU room when Pip was delivered. I didn't see him last appointment because he had moved offices, bit I decided to go to him this time and take him the little girl he helped save. I got teary eyed in the beginning. And we talked about how I'm doing. I still get short of breath when I talk too much or over exert myself. He wants to see me back in a year and have an X-ray done. That seems fair. Apparently, one doesn't fully recover from ARDS.. and I'm pretty well off from having it two years ago. He also checked on my chest tube sites and said they look great. The only issue I brought up was my trach scar. But he suggested plastic surgery or lasering it off.. no thanks.
I'm tired of the word. Surgery. It makes me feel like something bad will happen. I know there are possibilities, but I'd like to not think of that stuff, y'know? But being the pessimist I am.. I can never escape it.
Tomorrow hubs will go to work and I'll do some housework. Hoping Pip will let me sleep in. Brother went to pop's a day early, so I can focus on stuff. We'll see them and him Monday after surgery. Ugh. There's that word again. I'm starting to mentally cringe each time. After the hubs gets off work we'll pack up the car and head to the RMH. We'll probably be taking turns staying there Monday and Tuesday night. One of us will undoubtedly stay with Pip. I'm not looking forward to the drugged out of her mind two year old. Last time it was really pitiful to watch, and she was only six months old!
Wish us luck. Next post will be surgery day.
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