Monday, July 16, 2012

Ten Days Later

Ten days ago Shawn and I agonized over whether or not to put in an IV in Sylvie's arm. She needed her central line in her neck redressed for about the tenth time--a process that annoyed and hurt her and was an infection risk. We wanted that thing out. The nurse was willing to ask again, but thought the powers that be would insist on another line elsewhere just in case it became necessary to give her fluids or meds or whatever. The three of us stood in Sylvie's room, locked in the most bizarre negotiation session I have ever encountered. We decided we didn't want to stick her again, we'd redress her current central line and hope it would be the last time.

Ten days ago I began to droop in that hospital room. Sylvie's meds were dialed in but her low intake and output barred us from the exit sign. To make matters worse, she began refusing her medications or gagging on them and throwing up any sort of food she took in--wrong type of output. Sylvie was completely aware of her surroundings at this point. She missed home. She missed Emeline. She missed her bed. She missed normalcy; so much so that she began to look despondent. I tried to ignore the panic rising up within me. I knew in my heart that if we didn't get her home soon she might begin to regress.

An hour? Two hours? Thirty minutes later (time is warped in hospital rooms) the nurse breezed in with good news, "We're taking out her central line!"

I barely had time to get out a little "yea!" when she continued, 

"and you get to go home!"

I looked at Shawn in disbelief and then I danced and cheered like only a lovesick mama could!

I could still tear up when I think about the pure happiness of that moment.

Ten days ago we packed up her room, received final instructions on meds, and then drove home through rush hour traffic. I've never savored stalled traffic more.

Only ten days ago. And now look at her:

She cut two teeth during her hospital stay. I found this very efficient of her to do so while on morphine and epinephrine. And to date, I think her gums bother her more than her chest.

We've enjoyed ten days out of the hospital (as many days as we were in the hospital if you count our day of pre-op) and life feels normal. Unbelievable. I dreaded recovery. I expected to be well into August before normalcy returned. And here we are, mid-July. 

I just shake my head in disbelief these days.

Emeline (who deserves a post all her own, and she shall have one) instinctively knew everything would instantly be better once we were all home. After Shawn said a prayer of gratitude that night, she looked up and said it best:

"We are a family again!"


  1. What an all-time moment. I have to put packing up and getting home (a 2-3 hour moment, really) right up there with leaving the church after getting married.

    Sylvie was an amazingly tough sport all through her hospital stay, but only when the central line came out could she be relaxed and happy again. She was a new person. And then again when she got home. Joy and rest for us all. Indeed, she slept 12 hours straight every night and had the best naps ever for three days or so.

    Emeline, you kill me. Seeing Sylvie sedated or uncomfortable most of the day was one thing, but coming home every other night to spend time with you and seeing how it all affected you tore me up. Your quote above at once acknowledged your strain and launched the next phase. That was hard, right? Yeah, now let's run and chase together!

  2. so glad to hear normalcy is returning. one big happy family!

  3. I'm glad you believed your misgivings about the hospital and negotiated so persistently to get her free of the central line. Praise the Lord she is home again and recovering nicely.

  4. sigh. thanks for the update and thanks for sharing these great details. thanks also, shawn for your comment. i look forward to miss emeline's post one of these days!

    1. Shawn is such a great Daddy! We are so thankful.

  5. Thanks Monica, so much, for your writing through all this. You made a way for a lot of people to feel like a part of your journey, which has been a real gift for me. I rejoice in the Lord and in how He has held you all through this. Your list of thanksgiving in the next pose makes me know want to go make one of my own. I love you guys! And I had SO much fun with you the other day!

    1. Beth! We had so much fun too! (Wanna come play again?) And I'd love to see YOUR list of thanksgiving! Eph 5:19