Bleed, Pray, Love

Once you have been through the first few surgeries, you start to get a pretty good routine in prepping for the next one. This cranial surgery though- this is a completely different monster altogether. Sure, I will know what kind of clothes to pack and how much frozen milk she will need, but this surgery is a biggie and the first that we have had to make another preparation…

Our local Red Cross

Last week, I got a call from Dr. Cai's nurse regarding Caroline's upcoming surgery. She gave me a lot of information including the specifics of the procedure and what we can expect in the hours and days following. It was overwhelming and emotional for me. A lump welled up in my throat when she mentioned spending the night in the PICU (pediatric intensive care unit) with her eyes likely swollen shut. She said "it will be really important for you to be there so she can hear your voice because she will probably be scared that she can't see." Lady, you couldn't pry us away from our baby. Then, she mentioned casually that Caroline may need a couple of transfusions with this surgery. Although this procedure involves less blood loss than the traditional one, it isn't uncommon to require a transfusion. She said, "if you like, we can set up something called a donor directed donation, in other words, you and your husband could donate for Caroline." Let me say, I have donated blood before but it isn't something I make a habit of; however, is there anything you wouldn't do for your baby? So we called and made appointments with our local Red Cross for Tuesday, August 26th during Josh's lunch break. As I have mentioned Josh really doesn't like blood…or needles…or really anything medically-related, but again, what wouldn't you do for your baby? So, here we are…

Doesn't he look brave? (Just disregard the random foot. )

So, Josh has this fear of needles and blood but he doesn't react in a typical manner. He doesn't get pale or shaky or upset. No. He laughs. Hysterically. He began laughing as soon as the lovely phlebotomist sat him in the chair and he continued laughing right out the door and all the way to lunch. The phlebotomists were perplexed but quite entertained. The office manger left for lunch and remarked how funny it was and then when she walked back in 15 minutes later, she exclaims, "My gosh! Is he still laughin'?!" The phlembotomist replied, "Yep." "He been laughin' this whole, entire time?!" "Yep." At least it was easy for me to get him to smile for the camera. In between his laughing, we were able to tell the ladies a little about Caroline. They listened and shared encouragement and on the way out they said they would be praying for her and were going to write down her surgery date. Then we stopped for a quick lunch at Quiznos and one of the owners asked about Caroline. He said he had been thinking about us and would keep praying. We got our food and got seated. Wouldn't you know the only table left was one of those high ball tables with the tall stools? I was so scared Josh was going to fall out on me and go crashing on the floor of the city mall. Anyway, as I sat down, a lady from church I have known for about 15 years came up to me and hugged me. She said, "I read your blog" eyes filled with genuine concern, "and I am praying for y'all. It's going to be ok." I got another hug and I actually felt like everything is really going to be ok. That's what I love about a small, southern town. Most everyone you meet truly cares and when they say they are "gonna be prayin'," they really do mean it.

The sweet lady at the Red Cross saw me taking Josh's picture and said "Mama needs one, too. That way when that little girl starts sassin' you one day, you can let her know what's what." Mmm hmm