So we made it to Toronto and we’re all feeling the jet lag…
Ava was great on the plane and we were smart and ordered bulkhead seats so she could have her own.
The hotel has been really good and our room is comfortable with free Internet and even a kiddie pool downstairs.
This morning we (groggily) headed over to Sick Kids Hospital to start the pre-op process.
On a side note – the floodgate opened for me promptly upon setting foot in the lobby of the hospital. I mean – I’ve had my moments, but this was a good one…
As I’m choking on tears I passed the stroller off to Brian and went and hid behind the closes Starbucks sign.
It lasted a good ten minutes. I don’t really know why these random moments are happening, I can only guess it’s Mr. Fear and Mr. Reality sneaking up behind me and bear hugging me when I’m least expecting it.
Brian was sweet and shuffled from one foot to the other while I (not so) conspicuously wiped my face on my sleeve and gazed out a window for a little while.
Soon enough I was back to my old self and decided a grande vanilla latte would most certainly help lift my spirits (must have been the Starbucks sign).
We first went to the neurosurgical ward to meet with Dr. Drake. He’s been scheduled to oversee the surgery tomorrow.
After waiting 45 minutes (yes – he was late and according to his assistant, it’s a bit of a chronic issue), along came a very friendly-looking grandfather type.
Hellloooooooooo Dr. Drake.
He felt Ava’s head, checked her eyes, looked over her chart and told us that there’s been a scheduling mishap and he may or may not be our attending neurosurgeon tomorrow.
Goodbyyyyyyyyyyyye Dr. Drake.
Apparently, he has an emergency surgery scheduled for 8:30 EST and ours will be moved to 10:30 in the hopes he can operate. If he can’t operate, he has a colleague who is very skilled who will oversee the surgery in his place.
Gulp (vanilla latte mixed with a lump).
After our neurosurgery consult we head over to the laboratory so Ava can get her blood taken. Normally this doesn’t phase me (it’s happened enough times), but for whatever reason I left Brian holding the proverbial bag and found a nice large linen closet I could choke back tears in. Ava’s cries were still audible, but mine weren’t.
Strike 2 for mom. We’re really on a roll today…
After the lab we headed back to plastics and finally met with our plastic surgeon, Dr. Phillips. He was wonderful. He took his time, explained where he’s going to cut, how the transfusions work, where her drainage tubes will be and he was kind of enough to leave us with a ‘I don’t need to go over the risks, you guys have been through this before’.
Thanks Dr. Phillips. Really, thanks for that.
So, we headed out of the hospital, and over to get some formula from Shoppers Drug Mart. Baby and daddy are now sound asleep having their afternoon naps.
(Mommy’s keeping her anxiety at bay and working off the caffeine on her keyboard.)
Ava’s surgery is now scheduled for 10:30 EST. They’re telling us between 4 to 6 hours for her surgery and 2 days in PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care). She should be able to come back to the hotel with us on 11th.
I know you’re all thinking of us and it means more than I can possibly express. This has been the toughest thing we’ve ever gone through and I don’t really know what you’re supposed to say or do in times like this.
All I can do is be honest and brave, and appreciate that people have shown remarkable kindness and surprising thoughtfulness. It’s really instilled a sense of gratitude beyond words.
I wanted to share this journey to spread awareness about craniosynostosis and what it means to have a child with medical issues, and some of you have even posted this blog on Facebook and e-mailed it to your friends. Please continue to do that. It makes it all worthwhile. We want more people to know about craniosynostosis. We need more people to know about craniosynostosis.
Again – thank you. We’ll see you on the ‘other side’.
Love Melissa, Brian and Ava Joy.