July 22nd, 2003 - Tuesday

Straight Vision

Back in May, I mentioned that Hayley was going to have surgery done to correct her crossed eye. It was supposed to happen in late June and I forgot to mention it here (though I ranted about it in my weblog) but it was cancelled because of an administrative error where they forgot to enter our appointment into the computer system. Long story short, we showed up and were told that we weren't booked. Smoke billowed out my ears and apologies were hurled at us profusely. A new surgery appointment was made and this time we were properly given a pre-op appointment and a follow up confirmation call so we knew that it was for real. Which is good because I might have gone on a rampage otherwise.

One thing that was better this time around was that since we had the pre-op appointment I was actually given proper information. Last time I was led to believe that I couldn't feed Hayley in any way for 8 hours prior to the surgery. This time I was told that I could actually breastfeed her up until 4 hours prior. Believe me, that made a really huge difference since I was able to feed her when she woke up in the middle of the night, whereas the last time she was awake and hungry from 3 am onwards. At least this time we both got a bit more sleep and she wasn't crying for food.

We arrived at the hospital by 8 in the morning and hung out in the waiting room until they were ready for us. Hayley had fun playing with all the toys in there, especially the little cars you could ride around in.

(note the blurriness because she never stops moving...)

She also had a good time on the little rocking horse.

Even though the surgery was scheduled for 9:15, by 8:30 they had given us her little gown to change her into and they sent us up to the surgery floor. We met with the anesthesiologist, who was wonderful. He was very reassuring and, ideal for working in a children's hospital, very good and at ease with babies. He talked to Hayley, tickled her toes, and even made her smile. He explained the procedure to us and answered any questions that we had. Then he asked us if she attended daycare or was comfortable with strangers. The answer being a solid no to both, he suggested that we give her a liquid valium to conk her out before he took her into the operating room. He didn't want us to witness her kicking and screaming as she was being walked away from us and he didn't want her to be crying as they tried to pin her down to give her the gas to knock her out before putting the IV in. Um, neither did we.

She wasn't the least bit impressed by the valium since they squirted it via syringe into her nose, but she soon stopped fussing and crying as it worked its magic. In true Hayley form, she fought sleep every step of the way - it never did knock her out while she was still in the waiting room with us. She played on the floor a bit, looking very cute in her gown.

Though she didn't fall asleep, she sure got loopy. As we were holding her, her eyelids started to droop and she got the same expression on her face that I have seen on drunk people. It was quite funny, really. A few minutes later it was time to say good bye. We walked right up to the door with her and then she gave me a big drooly wet kiss. I handed her to the anesthesiologist and I had to laugh as they walked away because, unlike the normal Hayley who would be freaking out in the arms of a stranger, the drugged up Hayley was staring in awe and wonder at him, almost as though she was head over heels in love with him. It was adorable.

And then the waiting started. We weren't allowed to wait in that same room because it's rather small and it's a busy place so they like to keep traffic to a minimum. We were sent down to the second floor main waiting room. There was a special section for parents of children undergoing day surgery and there's a phone there. We were told to wait down there and they would call us when she was starting to wake up.

The first half hour was the worst. I kept looking at my watch and thinking, "I can't believe it isn't even 10 o'clock yet!" However, we had some distractions to help pass the time. George got me some breakfast and coffee, and we both had books to read. I wandered around the gift shop for a bit, looking at all the overpriced things on the shelves, and in between chapters of Harry Potter, I watched other babies in the waiting room. In hindsight it actually went fairly quickly because George went to buy us an early lunch and I had barely gotten two bites into my sandwich when the phone rang. It was just before 11 o'clock and the whole procedure had taken less than an hour and a half.

We rushed back up to the tenth floor to the recovery room. She had been in the process of waking up when they called us but I guess she was in a bit of pain (or maybe it was to ward it off before pain started) so they had given her some morphine and she was out cold.

That was when I finally let go a little. I had been really held together the whole time, but when I saw my little girl wearing just a diaper, wrapped in a blanket in the nurse's arms I got really sad. The nurse gave her to me and I have never felt her so limp and so heavy in her entire life. Her eyes were shiny from the antibiotic cream and there was blood that had leaked from the corners of her eyes. I was braced for it, but seeing her look so incredibly small for the first time in a long time was hard so when I sat down, I just held her and cried for a few minutes, but I was okay just so long as she was there.

George and I took turns holding her for the next two and a half hours and then she finally woke up. She cried at first, probably from being disoriented and from discomfort, but then she noticed the IV pole and held onto it and started jumping up and down in my arms, wagging her head from side to side in her little trademark dance move. That was the first real sign that she was fine.

We got her dressed and cleaned up a bit and then we left. We were home by a little past 2 o'clock so overall it wasn't a long day at all. She was like a newborn all over again, sleeping more than she was awake. We have to give her Tylenol every four hours for the first three or four days, so we'd wake her up for that and for a feeding and then she'd crash again.

She wasn't interested in solids at all last night so we didn't push her. She finally went to bed at about 9:30 or 10 pm and she slept really well until I woke her at 12:30 for her Tylenol.

Unfortunately she also has to have antibiotic ointment placed in her lower eyelid every eight hours for two weeks, so I had to wake her up again at 4:30 that morning. That is not a fun task, believe me.

Today was much better. She was perky upon waking and played all day. Within five minutes of being brought out to the living room this morning, she had pulled five books off the shelf and about ten CDs off the rack so I knew she was fine. She ate some applesauce for breakfast and some carrots and cereal for supper so we're getting back on track. She napped once today for two hours and then crashed pretty quickly at about 9:15 tonight.

The most amazing thing to me is the immediacy of the results. Her eyes are perfectly straight now. For me, it's almost like I'm looking at a different baby. I can't get over it. The inner corners of her eyes are still pretty red but all the swelling has gone down and she looks good. But I seriously do double takes when I look at her, almost as though I'm not sure if we brought the right kid home.

I'm so relieved that it's all over and that it seems to have been a success. I'm also thrilled that she's finally seeing with both eyes at once for the first time in her life. I wish she could tell me in words what she sees and how it's different from two days ago. At least I know that her vision is improved.

And as long as I don't have to go through waiting for her to finish being in surgery ever again, everything will be fine.