A Village

Rosalie is eight sessions into her radiation therapy. As I have mentioned before, Rosalie calls it the rainbow light. My friend Betsy Tomlinson took this photo on her recent vacation in Maine. She promptly sent it to me after reading the blog, so I thought it was a good photo to post.

Today was a bit of a whirlwind.

Long story short - Rosalie needed surgery to replace a part of her port.

Rosalie lies on her stomach for her radiation therapy. Her port lies directly on her breast bone. The pressure of her being planted so firmly on her tummy was inadvertently causing the needle to pierce the back of the port reservoir. A small hole was leaking blood out to the accessed line.

When I brought her into therapy this morning the anesthesiologist took one look at her line and thought something was wrong because there was a small amount of new blood on the gauze dressing.

They continued on with her radiation session, then promptly called the surgery team to get their opinion on the matter. Dr. Infosino (the anesthesiologist) felt that the port reservoir had somehow been punctured and needed to be replaced. The surgeon who had placed the port (Dr. Hanmin Lee) was in total agreement and so Dr. Infosino was able to get Rosalie a surgery time within the hour. If you are familiar with hospital life, you know this is a great feat. I know I was impressed.

So Robert, the anesthesia nurse, wheeled Rosalie and me up to the fourth floor for surgery. Rosalie was still asleep on my lap from the anesthesia for radiation. We were greeted with open arms by Dr. Laura Siedman (see blog entry on Monday, October 8, 2007) who told us that the surgeon, Dr. Miniati, would be out to meet us soon.

Rosalie came to and waited with me for about twenty minutes before the surgery began.

As if it were totally normal to be hanging out in an OR, Rosalie and I sat down on the table while Rosalie began mask induction of her anesthesia and I just told her stories.

Bada-bing, bada-boom, our Rosalie was in surgery.

Forty-five minutes later, I was alone in the cafeteria holding my cell phone just waiting for the surgeon to call me back up to the fourth floor. I suddenly realized what a crazy normal we lead. Half of me wanted to laugh and half of me wanted to cry. Two years ago the thought of a stranger (albeit a stranger with surgical skills) slicing ANY part of my daughter's body would be ridiculously scary. But today I literally heard myself say out loud to the team - "Okay guys, let's get this done." Am I a cheerleader at some strange and twisted pep rally?

Well, whatever the case, I was SO happy to meet Rosalie in the recovery room. As it goes with most pediatric patients, she always makes me feel better. She came to with great ease and began speaking in clear and complete sentences. The surgeon brought out the old port reservoir just to show me. Dr. Infosino was right, it had been punctured from all the pressure of Rosalie's body lying directly on top of it. The hole was teeny-tiny, but it was enough for blood to get through. In the future, Rosalie will lie on a table that has a hole cut out by her chest. The head radiation therapist measured everything out on Rosalie and he showed me the long piece of foam with a square cut out right by her port that they will use for the remaining treatments.

We went home and Rosalie was almost euphoric to play her typical game of 'mommy + daddy' where she was takes care of Miss Kitty. Mark and I laughed - there is something about surgery that definitely agrees with Rosalie. She is always so chipper and silly afterwards. Maybe it's all those drugs. Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment.

On the homefront, I had left Mark without a car seat and Susannah with a fever of 103.

Back at the hospital, I left dozens of individuals devoted to the health of small children.

It really does take a village.