Bye bye boulders

Our Amby had her massive tonsils removed on Friday, April 13th. She was a cute little tousel-headed trooper and behaved very well at the hospital. The whole process brought back all kinds of memories from three years ago when Rose had her tonsils out, from the difficulty of waiting during the surgery to the infamous post-tonsillectomy death-breath. Thankfully Rose's experience prepared me for Amber's surgery and I felt much calmer during Amber's operation than I did during Rose's three years ago. That nagging worry and mama-bear-concern were still fully activated, but they occurred in bearable quantities this time around.

Friday morning our house woke up at 5:15am so we could get everyone where they needed to be in time for our appointment at the hospital. Jeff took the day off of work to support Amber in her slicing. At 6am, we dropped Jay and Rose off with the grandparents in Grandview on our way to the Prosser hospital. Grama Leslie drove them to school when it was time while Jeff and I were at the hosptial with Amber. We arrived at the hospital right on time for our assigned 6:30 time slot. So early! Amber was slightly dazed. Her biggest trouble was HUNGER. She's used to eating breakfast right when she wakes up in the morning, but she wasn't even allowed to have a drink before her surgery. After checking in at the front desk, we walked back to the OR with a kind nurse who let Amber push the buttons on the elevator.

We helped Amber get all changed and settled into her big hospital bed. She was adorable in her little hospital gown and socks--a tiny little curly haired girl in a big wheely hospital bed. Various friendly nurses and doctors came and explained the procedure to us repeatedly until The Time came. It was sad to let the nurse wheel her away from us when the time came, but Amber went willingly. She was quiet but the nurse had made friends with her and the anesthesiologist had given her a special balloon to try to blow up, so she felt at ease. We waited for about an hour, and then the deed was done and Amber was returned to us. She did the sad hoarse howl coming out of anesthesia just like Rose did, but once I picked her up and positioned her on my lap where she could see the TV, she only cried intermittently. Jeff fed her a purple popsicle and she chowed it in big bites, poor thirsty hungry girl!

A little while and a few very dumb cartoons later, the nurse brought Amber some applesauce and apple juice. I spoon fed Amber the applesauce while holding her and she inhaled it. By this point she had stopped crying, and we were rather impressed and surprised that she didn't cry for very long at all. I held her sweet limp little body and she was happiest leaning her head against my chin. I kissed her hair over and over and just held her. It was so nice to hold my Amber. Normally she's much to energetic to let me hold her for more than a few seconds. At 9:30am, Amber was discharged and we drove home.

Little kids in hospital gowns are so sad and cute all at once. 

Entranced by lame Cartoon Network shows. There is a cartoon about an apple and his roommate/best buddy who's an onion and all of the dumb things they do. I think we all left a significant number of brain cells in the OR along with Amber's tonsil/adenoid fragments.

Before: how has she even been breathing past those boulders for the past 3 years? 

Waiting for our baby's surgery was sad. 

Poor weepy Amby. Coming out of anesthesia is no picnic. 

Eventually over the course of half an hour, Amber woke all the way up and stopped crying. 

All of this hospital snuggling reminded me of the first time we ever snuggled, the day Amber was born...

...it feels so long ago!

Long snuggle sessions are the best part of hospital stays.

We got Amber all ready to go and while we were waiting to be discharged, another kid came out of anesthesia in the curtained cubicle across from ours. The poor child did the same exact howling sob that Amber did when she was waking up, and Amber looked quite concerned about it. 

Poor little girl was a little out of it for the rest of the day--they injected some helpful drugs to manage the pain. 

The cauterized carnage! Shudder. It's not a great picture, but she won't open her mouth wide enough because she's too sore.

Friday the 13th, part II: in which the callous mother abandons her suffering post-op child to go on a selfishly long run. Well, that's how the situation appeared, although Amber was not suffering too much with all of the mega painkillers pumping through her system. When we got home from the hospital around 10am, Jeff snuggled up with Amber on the couch to watch Moana, and I geared up for my weekly long run. During track season I have to be an opportunist if I want to get any real running in without the stroller, and Jeff had taken the entire day off of work. So I pep talked my motherly heartstrings into a now-or-never state of being and left Amber for a 2 hour run. I should do a separate post about this run, but I'm tacking it on here: yet more evidence of my selfishness. (4 weeks till race day!) After waking up before dawn and going through the ordeal of Amber's surgery, my mental toughness was at an ebb. I almost cut my run short when the wind picked up and the rain began, but as I eased into it, I became more committed and was able to finish the full 2 hours. Running was a good release after the tense morning, and it only rained for the first two or three miles before settling into iron gray and windy. 

I ran the Superman Hill loop from our house, which is long, scenic, breathtaking, and a very intense quad workout. A good sweeping view cures all running reluctance. I only made one wrong turn during the entire run, and I only pepper sprayed one dog in the eyes. The critter was small enough to kick, but it looked a bit diseased and I didn't feel like touching it even with my shoe, so I sprayed its beady eyes instead and it beat a hasty retreat. I amused myself during the hard 2 mile steep uphill section by taking pictures in an attempt to capture the intense grade. 

 Starting the ascent, with Sunnyside's residential Harrison Hill waaay back behind me.

Blossoms!

 Looking back downhill: more blossoms!

Pretty purple carpet.

Many kinds of fruit, in orderly rows. 

 Another ascent: I tried taking a picture directly to my right to show the hill's slant. I promise it was steeper than this.

 Looking straight in front of me on the final climb.

Making progress: the orchards spread out behind me are my superhero cape! 

 Personal policy: don't post selfies if you aren't willing to post the hilarious/ugly/awkward selfies too. At this point I was panting like a dog and my pace slowed to 19 minutes per mile.

When I crested the hill onto the ridge at last, I was hit by a cannon blast of WIND that gusted under my visor brim like a sail and nearly sent me tumbling back down the way I had come.

As I jogged down the backbone of the valley, I experimented with perspective photos--not an easy task mid-stride while being buffeted about by fierce winds. Here I am holding Sunnyside in the palm of my hand.

I also plucked the Superman tower up and put it in my pocket. 

When I reached the bottom of the hill, I was met with a profusion of pink peach petals! They looked especially vibrant to my eyes after the prolific popcorn of the apple and cherry orchards.

Once I reached the peach orchards, I still had six miles to go! The interesting part of the run where I took pictures was all during the middle 3 miles. The other ten miles were run on normal average non-visually-stunning roads. That three miles of scenery were worth the ten miles of normalcy!


Friday the 13th, part III: afternoon and evening. As a late lunch, Amber had a smoothie and then ate an entire PBJ (on soft store bought bread with creamy PB and lots of jam to help it go down easy). We watched The Greatest Showman for family movie night, with a take-and-bake pizza that I picked up yesterday. (by that point Amber didn't want to eat anything but otter pops). By 6pm, I could tell that Amber's throat was starting to hurt her some because of the way she was holding her mouth--kind of slack, with her jaw jutted out a bit. She was resisting swallowing, and just like the nurse told us to expect, she coughed every now and then due to saliva buildup. When she coughs, I cringe in sympathy for her poor sore throat! She said she was tired and we helped her to bed by 6:45pm. She woke up often before 10pm, then seemed to settle in and slept till morning, poor lamb.

Now, 2 days after her boulder-bashing surgery, Amber is limp and feverish with horrible death-breath and no appetite. She refuses to take medicine and only sips water when we force her to. We have managed to get some applesauce into her, but she is quite the tragic little figure. At church today lots of people asked about Amber (she stayed home with Jeff), and I kept saying "she's alright--limp and sore, but ok." When I got home, she seemed even limp-er and sore-er! Booo! I do not like watching my kids suffer! I do like holding my darling death-breath baby though. She never acts like she cares about me until she gets sick or hurt, then she shows her true colors. So maybe I should say thank goodness for physical maladies--they balance out the scales for mothers of wild children!