the woman in the room with me is a saint of God. anything i have needed or questioned the whereabouts of, she has provided me with - even laundry detergent.
so i am sitting here, doing a small load of wash. home away from home.
the doctor came in and discussed the surgery with molly for the first time. she listened...her eyes got wide at some of what he was saying about the severity of the infection...and then the news of the picc line came. that did not go over well at all. six weeks to a teenager about to embark on summer is a long, long time.
she said "summer school was six weeks....this is as long as summer school!"
she cried, and cried, and cursed and cried some more. there was no scolding for the language, no cajoling, only crying alongside her, handing her tissues and both of us blowing our noses simultaneously. i told her she had every right to feel put out, that i wanted her to feel her feelings and we would discuss things logically once the emotions were more at bay.
about two hours later, they started calming down. i told her about kelly's idea of having maybe a pizza party at our house on thursday (yay for my daughter-in-law!) and the fancy dinner a few weeks from now when she is up to it and can really enjoy it. it seemed to brighten her, if only a tiny bit.
we then talked about the iv line being in and really not being anything more than a nuisance, about how the fusion didn't "take" on the lower part of her spine, and how dr. shah wanted to treat the infection aggressively so we wouldn't end up back here in 8 weeks for another surgery. after that bit of info, she seemed to lighten up about the iv.
God is so good, my friends. i am not positive why this is happening, am simply trying to stay in my day, not get in my head, and keep believing and trusting that this will all turn out in the end.
(did i mention there is a bunch of my AA buds taking a roadtrip to bring penni a meeting tomorrow? how awesome is that??)