Road to Recovery

Today was a long, long day. For Alex. For me. And for Rachel.

In the morning I thought:

Is it bad that I'm enjoying eating lunch alone? Is it bad that I'm looking forward to having my husband home with us for a week? Is it bad that I'm sort of relishing in the selfish by-products of my husband's ACL surgery?


By midday I was thinking:

This surgery business isn't so bad after all. I didn't have to take anti-anxiety meds, and although Alex was nervous, he certainly wasn't beside himself with worry either. And post-surgery he's quite funny, spitting plenty of good one-liners.

"You know what would be crazy? The civil war."

"Whoa, man. I just had my second dream about donuts. With sparkles on them!"

"I just bare-butt farted on their bed."

Things started to get a bit more trying as the afternoon progressed. Alex wasn't coming off the anesthesia as quickly as anticipated. His vitals were sort of erratic and he oscillated between complaints of high levels of pain and complaints of intense nausea/fatigue/malaise.

We hadn't seen the baby in many hours, as my full boobs reminded me. I was getting nervous about how Rachel & Co. were handling three kiddos. And I wasn't sure whether I packed the Bean enough food. Then I realized that we couldn't fit both Alex's fully erect and fully braced knee AND the carseat in the Volvo at the same time. How were we to get the Bean back home? We has some juggling to do. Thank god for good friends (duh, Rachel & Family).

And still, Alex wasn't well enough to be discharged. Recovery took a while. A long while. But eventually (3+ hours post-surgery) the color finally returned to his cheeks, his oxygen saturation was back in the high 90s, and his breath rate was finally registering on the monitor. And nearly 9 hours since we first checked in, we were given the go ahead to get Alex dressed and loaded in the car for the longish drive home. Fingers crossed for minimal Friday evening traffic. We weren't quite the last ones in the PACU, but I was aware of several other patients who had come after us and gone before us.


And by evening ...

I was ready to get my miserable hubby as comfortably situated on the couch as possible, be thankful for an uneventful surgery, and then love on my darling baby girl. Phew! time to relax.

Oh wait, I need to feed Alex, get him pain meds, feed the baby, nurse the baby, get her ready for bed, put her to bed, check on my husband, eat something myself, obsessively text Rachel thank-you, check in with family, re-position the pile of pillows elevating Alex's leg, adjust the TV antennae, chug a glass of water, fill the "polar bear" with ice, and eventually sputter my way to bed, out of gas.

Glad this day is over. Grateful Alex is okay. Going to sleep.