Tonight I feel agitated. While Adam and I were off picking up Abby from her first day of 1st grade this afternoon, neuro-oncology came by to set up an appointment for tomorrow. The results are in. We didn't get to set up a time to talk yet since they'd closed by the time we got around to calling, but still... game on. At this time tomorrow, we'll know what we're dealing with. While it'll be a relief to finally know and to get moving with whatever lies ahead, I'm also scared to pieces. Hence the agitation.
As for Mr. Logan, today was good in terms of recovery but not so good in terms of patient morale. He had his quick MRI this morning and it came back looking good (in fact, an internist in the PICU who saw it said his ventricles looked 'beautiful' - Logan always says everything is beautiful so I know he'd appreciate that if he knew what was going on), so the drain was removed this afternoon and the bandages came off his head. I left the room when Patrick, the neurology PA, came by to do the deed. I couldn't stand hearing Logan cry and I was a little scared of seeing the incision for the first time.
When I returned, he'd stopped crying and Adam was cradling him on our sleep chair with the incision facing outward. It was shocking, really. It looks something like a deep cat scratch in nature, which was better than I'd expected, but it's just so long. So, so long. Much longer than I'd anticipated. I know I need to get over it now and get used to it since it's important that we not react negatively, but it's hard to see my little boy's perfect little head so defaced. I know it's all surface and superficial, but it's still just so hard. It's yet another injury that I just can't kiss and make better. One day I'd like to think that I'll see it and view it as an emblem of God's grace: That there was a serious problem, but it was discovered, treated and made whole again by the Ultimate Healer. That's the hopeful part of me being hopeful with every bit of faith I can muster. But I'm not always so positive. In fact, it's a struggle to even believe the words as I type them. But I *want* to believe them, so there they are.
Anyway, a little later, his nurse Katrina - who had been his day nurse several times and has been a favorite of Logan's - removed his arterial line, clearing the way for a move to the pediatrics ward. It took a long, long time to finally get a go to move, but we finally did and were settled into his new and much, much quieter spot on the 5th floor by about 8:45 PM. We didn't luck out and get a window spot (which is a bummer because the window beds have MUCH more space, for some reason), but at least it's a lot more peaceful so hopefully Adam will be able to sleep better tonight.
As for patient attitude, Logan was whiny and cranky most of the day, and definitely more interested in daddy than in anyone else, which has been the norm. I'm glad that he feels so connected to Adam, but admit that it hurts my feelings that he doesn't seem to care whether or not I'm around. He usually sees me, tears up and immediately asks where daddy is. As a stay at home mom, it cuts right to my heart. But I want him to be well again, so if that means I step back and let him have what he wants to get it, I'll do what needs to be done. My ego and my heart can take it. I'm looking forward to the return of his usual sunny disposition, and hope it happens soon.
So that's where we are for now. Please pray for continued complete healing and for us as we finally get the pathology report sometime tomorrow. Thank you all and good night.