Yesterday Liv, Nichelle, and I made the three and a half hour trek to Seattle to meet Olivia's oncologist, Dr. P, anticipating that we'd be at the hospital a couple of hours and then be free to go home. About a mile from the hospital my phone rang. I had Nichelle answer since I was focused on driving. Her side of the conversation went something like this:
Hello?.........Yes....Okay?.....Procedure? What procedure?....Uh, we were told that would be in October. We haven't seen the oncologist yet........Oh!......Okay....Okay. Thank you!
She hung up and said," Um, apparently Olivia is having her eye removed tomorrow." How had no one told us about this? We had no idea this would be happening so soon. None. We were completely unprepared and dumbfounded. A fury of phone calls and emails to employers, teachers, friends, and family and an hour and half later, Brandon was on his way here to Seattle with everything we needed.
It has been a whirlwind. Even though Brandon and I have been talking about this and doing our best to mentally prepare ourselves for the surgery, we didn't feel ready for it. We had anticipated that we'd set a date for the procedure and a have a week or so to really mentally build up to it. But no.
My sister Katie reminded me that it would be like ripping a band-aid. And rip it did. And it hurt. It still hurts.
. . . . . .
This morning we made our way through dark streets of Seattle to the hospital. We checked in and went through all the typical steps and procedures. Brandon decided to take Liv back to the operating room this time to save me from the trauma of doing it a third time in less than week and a half. She instantly recognized where she was, began to cry, and repeated, "All done! All done!" over and over through her sobs before drifting off to sleep.
When the surgery was over, Dr. W spoke to Brandon and I. He said the surgery went well and she had no problems with it. There are two areas of concern in the eye where he and Dr. P are concerned that the cancer may have spread. Dr. W said that just looking at the eye he couldn't see himself that it has spread, however it is difficult to tell and that the people from pathology and Dr. P from oncology would be running a series of tests on the eye to determine the need for chemotherapy. We should know the results of that next week.
We stood around Liv's crib after they wheeled her into her room after surgery, watching her sleep. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, smiled, clapped her hands, and in rough, scratchy voice said, "Good job!" We all applauded her and she drifted off to sleep again.
Right now Liv is sleeping peacefully in her daddy's arms. She will only wake up for a few seconds at a time. She will be kept mostly sedated the next few days, and for that I am grateful. All of the prayers and love said for our little family are being felt in ways you can't imagine. We are so grateful. Please keep them coming. This road is far from over.
