Not much sleep was had. I watched my sweet girl through the doorway of our room into hers as she slept peacefully, but my mind raced as usual. It took a long time to even fall asleep, but I was unable to stay there no matter how much I tried. Instead I counted down the time until I'd have to wake her, and we'd begin this journey, her journey.
I can't tell you the number of times I've asked for this to please be happening to me. I can handle it, and while I know she's a fighter and tough as nails, I never for one moment of her life want her to experience pain. I can't take this pain away from her, I can't shield her or protect her, it's coming whether I want it to or not and it's breaking me.
We arrive at 0600 as instructed, she remains quiet but overall seems in good spirits. She knows what's coming, we've not hidden anything from her. Her fears are those typical of someone who's not had surgery: will I wake up during surgery and the pain afterward. The surgery is predicted to last 4.5 hours, and it will be the longest 4 hours of my lifetime.
The wonderful Child Life Specialist greets us with a huge smile. These incredible people truly are God sent. She explains the locations Lennon will be moved around to and shows her photos of the OR, the recovery room, and the room she'll have after surgery. They play pop it's while anesthesia gets Lennon's IV started. She doesn't even flinch, sadly this is already old territory for her. Doctor after doctor come into the room, kneel to speak to Lennon first, and proceed with our discussions after Lennon has given the go ahead. If you're a medical professional reading this, hear me when I tell you this is important to do. Kneel to their height, look them in the eyes, ask them questions they'll be able to answer, because this, all of this, is happening to them not around them.
We hug tightly. I tell her how incredibly proud of her I am, that I will see her very soon, and that I promise it will all be okay. We blow kisses and say goodbye.
She's off and now the hard stuff begins
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