This post is a tiny slice of life, served up in anticipation of the rest of the pie.
We went to Target. We got soft pjs and footy pjs and a big blue robe.
Last time I remember getting these was for a swim team trip. We stayed overnight and all her friends had matching footy pjs. That was fun.
“This is all I’m gonna wear for the next two weeks,” my daughter says.
“Is there anything else you want. Drinks or snacks?” I ask.
“No, I don’t know what I’m gonna want,” she says.
True, I think. I don’t know either.
She’s having knee surgery today, 11:15. The surgery itself is said to be routine. Not a difficult one to do.
It’s what comes next that’s unknown. We know in theory. A special icing and heating machine and a post operative brace is going to meet us at the hospital. Another passive movement machine will be delivered at home in the afternoon. Reminds me of when she was born. She was jaundiced and had to be in a special little lighted “suitcase”. Another machine to help you heal. Similar and different.
These machines mark the beginning of her rehabilitation that is said to take six months.
“I’ll be good for summer,” she tells me.
I tell her of all of the swimmers I know who have come back strong from surgery. “Being injured is a part of being an athlete,” I tell her. “You’ll come back stronger than before.”
She acts convinced and I’m grateful for that.
We’re lucky. The surgery happens over break, so she won’t miss school. She’s healthy and strong, and we have health insurance to help pay for it. We’re lucky.
We’re also quietly nervous. “That’s normal,” my husband says.
Yep, I’m normal nervous right now.
Her friends are busy texting her.
My friends are texting me. We’re all a little nervous. It’s normal.
“Wake me up at 7:45, I’m gonna take a long shower in the morning,” she says.
Ok. Good night honey.
Good night, love you Mom.
Love you too, baby.
It’s 5:30, and she’s sleeping beside me. Taking up the space where my husband was a half hour ago. This is not usual.
I move to the kitchen, and make coffee. I worry about tomorrow at this time. Will it be as will be peaceful?
I’m nervous. It’s normal.
To Read To Write To Be 
It is normal, but nerve wracking nonetheless. Hope the surgery goes well and is over quickly.
The surgery went well. Now to heal. Thank you so much for your support!
You are expressing confidence for your daughter. That is so important. It is very normal to worry. I’ll say a prayer that all goes smoothly. The rehab will be tough. She will need your support. All my best.
Thanks for your prayers! Surgery went well. Now the longer road of recovery. I’m thinking patience and step by careful step.
I so know the worry on this one. My son had this surgery with the passive motion machine that met us at the hospital. He laid on the floor with the whir of the machine for a little while but then, as if it was normal, was hopping around the kitchen on his good leg! I worried before hand. I worried when the surgery took (in my opinion) tong. I worried about his recovery and the challenge of doing rehab. I worried…like you worried because we’re moms and that is what moms do. I wish her a speedy recovery and a stronger than ever kick! I wish you the patience and perseverance you will need when she complains (normal) and while the machine whirs and she lays reading, watching TV and waiting for healing on your living room floor!
Anita,
Hearing your son’s experience helped so much! She’s home now. Both machines are going and for now she is comfortable. Thank you so much for sharing this. Patience is necessary and a possible one little word for next year, for many reasons — this included!
This is the normal-nervous part that goes along with parenthood, right? If it was you, you’d be fine. But when it’s your child, your heart races much faster, your thoughts wander anxious corridors. Good luck…and may your athlete have a successful surgery and recovery.
So true, it would be easier if it were me. Fortunately the hospital staff was wonderful, so kind. Nurses are amazing people. Surgery went well she’s comforatable. Thank you so much for you good wishes and support.
I like how you write. I could feel the nervousness rise and fall away only to rise up again. Both you and your daughter gathering the support teams of friends and family as you look to each other for support.
She’s home now, friends surround her and her machines are humming. Thank your for your support! Yeah SOLers.
Worry lines…we work hard for those don’t we? Praying that the surgery goes well and the recovery goes quickly!
Yes we earn every one. All is good now. Home. She’s resting in front of the new television. Thanks for your good thoughts.
Normal-nervous. I’m remembering my mom’s vigil by my bedside through my first grade whooping cough while my brother slept just down the hall as an infant. She must have been soo nervous, even though I never saw it.
That’s the job of mom. Worry, worry… but don’t let them know. I remember my mom in similar times. I remember thinking she was superhuman! Thanks for rekindling that memory.
I’m glad to read that all went well. Your use of the word nervous really set the tone for this. I knew your heart was racing all the way through. Praying for a speedy recovery for your daughter.
Glad that surgery went well. The repeated use of nervous made me nervous for you and your daughter. Here’s to the speedy recovery.
Sweet how you started this with a trip for comfy lounging clothes. I love your normal- nervous Mom’s heart that shines through. Thank you for the update of a successful surgery now on to recovery. Blessings.