The surgery that couldn't wait.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Christopher and Courtney (cousins).  They are at the park feeding the ducks.  They have always been very close friends.  Even though they are 16 years old now, we still call them "the babies."  They are the youngest of all the grandchildren.  They are only 3 months apart.

The doors to the operating room closed as they wheeled Christopher in to meet with his destiny.  Would I ever see him alive again?  Would I ever get to hold him again?  He was just a baby.  Would I get to see him grow up?  I had never even heard his voice.  I wondered what it would sound like?  I wondered what he would be like?  Would he be funny like his daddy?  I bet he will have a great laugh.  He will probably love to laugh like me.  My husband makes me laugh.  Christopher will too.

I let my mind wander into thoughts of the future.  After all, the present was not too much fun to think about.  I told myself that things were going to work out.  He was going to come through this.  He would have a future.  I wasn't about to let go of him, not yet.  I kept telling myself that "it's not over till it's over." 

"The babies"...Aren't they cute?

Cue the movie.  It's Groundhog Day again.  It was the same surgical waiting area.  It was just a different day, different surgery.  I was glad I wasn't alone.  My mom was there.  She was crying.  I felt so bad for her, but I didn't let myself cry.  I wanted to stay clear headed.  Besides, I kept trying to convince myself that there was no need to cry because Christopher was going to be just fine.  My sister was there too, but at least she wasn't pregnant anymore.  She had brought her baby girl, Courtney, with her.  I couldn't help but notice the obvious contrast.  Courtney was so healthy and not one bit blue.  She had that beautiful pink, newborn skin. 

I thought of my husband.  I had tried to call him with another update, but he didn't answer.  I hoped that meant that he was on the plane.  I sure hoped he was going to get here soon.  If Christopher was going to die, I wanted both of us to be here with him.  What was I thinking?  He wasn't going to die.  I just wanted Mike to be here when Christopher woke up from surgery.

What about Michael and Ryan?  How could I ever tell them that their brother had di...  I wouldn't let myself think it.  No, pretty soon we were going to go home, and the circus would start up again.  They would play together, tease each other, and be best buddies. 

I was doing my best to hold it all together.  I could physically feel myself tighten up to "hold it all in."  What I needed now was a distraction.  I needed coffee and maybe a cookie, definitely a cookie.  We went to the cafeteria, bought some comfort food, and went back to the waiting area.  It didn't end up helping us waste much time, but at least it tasted good.

A couple of  hours had passed with no word from the operating room.  I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, and I had no idea how much longer it was going to take.  Having Courtney, Christopher's cousin, there turned out to be a VERY welcome distraction.  She was just a newborn, and we spent a lot of time fussing over her.

After about three hours into the surgery, we started to get very anxious for information.  Maybe something had gone wrong.  Maybe the worst had happened and Christopher had died.  I refused to believe it.  I just KNEW it wasn't true.  I think moms know. We have very keen instincts when it comes to our children. I had just given birth to Christopher, and I KNEW he was still alive.

I still couldn't believe this was happening.  I started thinking about all the things that had happened over the last couple of days.  It was all so crazy.  How did things get so out of control?  You just can't make this stuff up.  I guess the old saying "life is stranger than fiction" is true. 

I looked at my watch.  It had been four hours now, four long hours!  It was nearly 4:00 am.  The hospital seemed deserted.  A few nurses were busy going in and out of patient rooms.  A janitor was polishing the floor outside the waiting room with a big machine.  For the most part, we were alone.  There wasn't anybody else waiting for  a loved one.  They don't usually schedule surgeries at midnight. 

Then about a half hour later, an intern finally came in to let us know that the surgery was over.  Christopher was in the recovery room.  He was alive, but he was not out of "the woods" quite yet.  The next 24 hours would be very critical.  The intern told us that Christopher would be going to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, and we could see him there in an hour or so.  The surgeon would be waiting there for us in order to explain what had been going on for the last 4 and half hours in the operating room.

My mind was too busy celebrating the "he's alive part."  I missed most of what the doctor said after that, but my support team "had my back."  The doctor left.  We all breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.  Christopher was alive!

If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this:

More tomorrow...