We are back at the hospital for the (gulp) 4th surgery in 9 months. This one is reconstructive and there will be one more and then we should be finished. My sister took this picture while we were waiting for Mom to be called back to Pre-Op. It’s strange to be there. It’s kind of like you are just sitting and waiting for a doctor’s appointment or even a hair cut appointment (in a very large hair salon, ha!), then you move in stages from there to a room where your Mom changes into a hospital gown and gets an iv. At this point you no longer feel like it’s just a normal day but you just sit and chat like you would if you were at her house.
Then a man comes in and says, ‘Mrs. Hackett?!’
And you say ‘No. Mrs. Skaggs!’
And he walks out and walks back in and says ‘Oh yeah! Mrs. Skaggs!’ and throws a chart on your mom’s bed and starts wheeling her out of that little closet room to an elevator.
Actually, that only happened this time, but it sure woke us up! I think my sister and I were both wanting a good look at that chart to make sure it was my mom’s and that they weren’t about to do Mrs. Hackett’s brain surgery on her or something!
Then you go into pre-op and the parade of physicians and students and interns and fellows begins, all asking your mom the same questions. It’s always wierd to leave that room and know that the next time you see your mom, she will be barely conscious, probably in pain, and will be beginning a long road to recovery from what is about to happen to her. It’s sobering. It feels a little bit like saying goodbye to someone who is leaving for an out of the country trip. You don’t want to be morbid and say things like ‘if I never get a chance to say this’, but you also want to be sure that you say ‘I love you’. I always breathe better after I get the phone call from my parents, who are jet setters (haha!), telling me they are back in the good ol’ USA after an overseas trip, even if they still have 2 more flights to actually reach home. And it’s always strange because I have this feeling that I didn’t even know I was stressed about their safety until I breathe that sigh of relief that they are ‘safe’.
That’s how I always feel when Mom is wheeled back into her hospital room. We may have a few more flights to actually reach home, but she is back with me, and that feels good.