Phil made it home! Bella spent the drive to base chanting " I wanna cwismas twee". I finally looked at her and said "what?" and then she mimed opening a present- aaaaah you want a present! "Yep daddy brings me pwesents!"
And that he did- each girl got a faux diamond ring from Singapore, which goes really well with the fauxhawk Lily is sporting these days. There were tshirts, and maps which ultimately stole the show. Very much like the phenomenon of kids playing with wrapping paper and boxes that toys come in, they played with the maps all afternoon. Lily slept with hers. There was some drama when it sustained usage damage- but all in all- scotch tape mends everything but the emotional wound it left.
As I got ready for bed the stress started building. Scans. Lily has her CT and MRI today. The hormone tests all came back normal- and if there were tumors causing her "symptoms" they would expect the hormone levels to be raised. Phil and I had the cursory debate over who would take Lily in. He asked me if I wanted to go. No. No I don't want to go. I need to go, I should be there- but do I WANT to be there, no. I want to be there for Lily. It's a complicated mix of feelings- but scans are exhausting. It's emotionally draining- battling her fears, while suppressing yours running around, getting the paperwork in order and then waiting for the scans. I usually take a book and reread the same paragraph 800 times until the tech or resident comes out and walk to recovery with her- and then the real fun begins. The screaming, the crying the I wanna go home-ing. Phil suggests we let Lily decide in the morning. That's fair.
She gets up at 0530 and drags me downstairs. She's thirsty and hungry. The other downside to scans- NPO status. Fortunately since it isn't major surgery she's going into and just a scan- I adjust the stringency of adhesion to rules accordingly. I fix her some toast and water and she ends up consuming neither. Another lesson learned previously. I could spend an hour telling her every three seconds that she can't eat or drink- or put a small something out and she doesn't eat it anyhow- it's availability appeases her. She can have clears until 8. But I would like her to have something little in her tummy before I give her a triple dose of hydrocortisone for the stress.
She runs the gamut of questions- are they taking my button out? No. Are they going to poke this?(she points to her port) Yes. Oh. Am I gonna sleep there? Kind of- you will take a little nap and then come home. No- I don't like that, she's starting to panic. Ok babe- it's ok, you'll wake up happy and we'll get you whatever you want for lunch. OK.
Phil comes downstairs and immediately asks who she wants to take her- you. She looks at me- I want daddy to take me-can two of you take me? Well, someone has to stay with Phillip, Kiera and Bella. Ok, you stay here with them, daddy will take me to the sospital. And I am relieved. It's like a last minute pardon. It's so much easier to clean and do laundry while stressed than to sit in a waiting area with dozens of other stressed people- the air of stress is tangible. We don't get the results right away anyhow. We still have to wait for that. I usually have to call and ask. When they call you, it's rarely a good sign. She grabs her map, packs her backpack and she is ready to go. Where are we going? She points to a spot on the map. Apparently the hospital is in Singapore now.....
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Yey, Phil is home! Yey, she picked Phil to go :). Praying for you guys while you get through the rest of today and in the waiting game for test results. How long do you usually have to wait?
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