3.22.11

AYNSLEY:
Whew. BIG exhale. I have to admit how nervous I was about today. Mom had another power port put in and I've been extremely worried about the procedure. It was sort of a gate, stopping me from focusing on my wedding, preventing me from seeing anything beyond today. I was scared.

I spent the night with Mom last night and we got a fair amount of sleep. We were up every two hours from 10 to 3, then slept through until 7am when the nurse tried to give Mom her anti-nausea medication. She's supposed to take it intravenously 30 minutes before eating. It's my understanding that people don't eat before surgery. So, I inquired about the medication and got a blank stare. It took us almost two hours to find out if Mom could eat or drink anything before the procedure. It turns out she wasn't supposed to, but at that point I had given her ice and water because her mouth and throat were dry. But the staff would have given her medication and breakfast; somewhere along the way, communication broke down. Mom and I both were beyond frustrated, but everything ended up working out fine.

The cabulance arrived at 9am to transport Mom to Capitol Hill where she was having the surgery. Dad and I rode with her and the paramedics, who were 24 years old (really-they were talking about looking forward to turning 25 and thus renting cars) and making ridiculous small talk. But they did a great job and we arrived with Mom still fairly comfortable. There was about an hour of prep work to be done: IV fluids, prophylactic antibiotics and an ultrasound to check out her veins and see where the port would be inserted. It was finally decided that they would use her right jugular for insertion this time (last time it was the left subclavian) and asked that Dad and I meet Mom back in her room in about an hour. We walked, had lunch, and got back just as Mom came back. She spent the entire procedure under conscious sedation, so a huge chunk of my worry was unfounded: she didn't even go under general anesthesia. She was alert and hungry when we got back and ate a good amount of cheese tortellini and asparagus (a good amount is about half of the serving) and a couple of bites of chicken. She then napped a little bit while the RN monitored her vitals and made sure she was okay.

We left Capitol Hill at 2pm and headed back to KGH. Mom snoozed pretty much on and off the rest of the afternoon. The rabbi chaplain for the facility came to see us in the afternoon when Ross was there, so we all spoke with her a little bit and had the Mi Sheberakh said for Mom.

The rabbi told us a little Jewish folklore story that I fell in love with. When praying for healing, you say the sick person's name and their mother's name (if it were me: "Aynsley, daughter of Flynne") because you're appealing to the nurturing, loving, feminine side of God; that's where healing comes from. Though I would never describe my maternal grandmother in those terms, I loved the sentiment. That we're calling on all of the Mothers and asking for their help. There it is again, my mantra of the last three months: you never stop needing your mom.