Monday, April 15, 2013

My Daughter's Brain Surgery

It's a strange thing to be sitting in a waiting room, kind of bored, knowing my daughter is just down the hall with someone cutting open her skull and possibly removing parts of her brain. 

This man that we met once.  Talked to for fifteen minutes.  Holds my daughter's life quite literally in his hands.

The last three weeks, since her diagnosis, have seemed like a year.  It's taken forever.  Mostly because all we had was a diagnosis, no information specific to her case.  Then, last Thursday we finally met with the neurosurgeon.  We learned what her situation was.  We learned his plans.  We scheduled the surgery for the soonest possible date.  The last four days have flown by and dragged.  You wouldn't think they could do both, but they did.

And now we are here.

Pre-op was a bit tense.  Knowing it was just around the corner.  Sam was quite anxious, which added to my anxiety.  Then pre-op was done and we waited.  It was about an hour and a half of waiting after pre-op was done.  We got bored again. 

Then someone walked in, told her it was time to go, and the fear returned.

And they took my baby away.  Nineteen or not, she's still my baby.

I'm actually ridiculously calm.  Except for this underlying anxiety that I feel every time my children leave my presence.  Just kind of magnified.

I believe the surgeon is skilled and knows what he's doing.  I believe things will go well.  But there's still that part of me that holds a constant prayer in my heart that she will come back to me.

I wonder if that will ever go away or if I will just always have that small alert in my heart.  No matter how old they get, I wonder if I will always have that sense that they are vulnerable to this big, bad world and I need to protect them.

I can't imagine doing this without faith.  While I believe everything will go well and she will heal and finally feel better, there is a tiny chance that things could go not well.  That she could have permanent damage of some kind, have a successful surgery but feel no relief, or even die.  All of those things are possible.  But I am still much more calm than not because of my faith. 

I know that I am not the only one worried about her and watching out for her.  I know that she was His child first.  I know that no matter what happens, she will be okay.  We will be okay.  There is great comfort in knowing that.

But it doesn't mean I'm ready to give her up yet.

I imagine she'll come out and we'll have a rough go for a few days with a consistently upward curve of healing.  I imagine that within a few months, the only evidence of today will be the six-inch scar up the back of her neck and skull.  I imagine she'll be up and running, back to usual, before we think she should.

But right now a doctor has her head splayed open and is working on her brain.  And we wait.  And it's scary.


MaggieJo said...

Having kids is terrifying. Mine is just at preschool and still I sit and worry. I'm grateful for my faith that they are mind second. My heart is with you guys today.

Tess said...

I am so sorry to hear about this! Please update her progress.

Suz said...

Even in your time of duress you are an example of great faith. In my thoughts and prayers.

Bonnie said...

Such peace comes with fasting. Thanks for the opportunity to do so and be joined with your heart for a bit again. All is well. I can hear Mack Wilberg's arrangement come to a crescendo. Love you.

Organized Island said...

Once again you amaze me with your strength Robin. Praying for your daughter's quick and effective recovery.

The Dose of Reality said...

Oh, Robin. We are so sorry this has happened. We are praying that everything went well with your daughter's surgery. You, your daughter, and all of your family are in our prayers. --The Dose Girls

Unknown said...

I'm thinking of you and your family Robin.

Michelle said...

My thoughts and prayers are with you - I hope all went well with your daughter's surgery! Please keep us updated and know we are all thinking of you!

Sorta Southern Single Mom said...

Sending lots of prayers. I hope everything went well.

Unknown said...

Oh, I can only imagine what you and your family must be going through right now. I hope for the best for your daughter and a fast recovery.

Sheila Skillingstead said...

I saw your post right above a comment I left today at a SITS blog. I will be adding your family to my prayers and pop in from time to time. One step at a time.

Libby said...

I don't have the right words Miss Robin. Our thoughts and prayers are with you. Keep us updated.

Angela Gilmore said...

My thoughts are you with you and your family. I can't quite conceptualize what you must be going through. I have a son, and he's been in the hospital but only for an x-ray or an ultrasound. You are an amazingly strong woman.