Monday, June 08, 2009

Harlie

One of the wonderful friends I've made since my move to Richmond is Christy, mom to three. Her middle child, Harlie, has been mentioned here several times before - her medical needs are huge. I so admire Christy, who I swear should have an honorary PhD in pediatric medicine. She can juggle a creeping infant and talkative five year old all while suctioning her trached two and a half year old daughter. The woman has cleaned more puke than any full time nurse, attended to countless wounds and can plug in oxygen and a feeding in no time flat. Yeah, she deserves lots of gold stars.

I'm thinking of her today, as she sits, again, in a hospital, waiting for a surgery. I've only had to be through major surgery with a child once, and I can tell you, no matter how tough you are, it's so hard. So, so hard. Christy's sat in that OR waiting room more times than I care to think about (I think this is number 11).

What a lot of people don't get about a major surgery like this is that the surgery, itself, isn't the scariest part necessarily. It's the recovery road. Christy had to pack not knowing how long she'd stay. Planning for the unknown is an impossible and daunting task. It really is too much to ask of a mom, but yet you don't get a choice in the matter. I think Christy does a fantastic job handling the hand she's been dealt, even if she thinks she doesn't.

So say a little prayer for Harlie today as she undergoes yet another surgery (this one's open heart). And, just as importantly, send a little good mojo to Christy and her family!

UPDATE: Harlie did well in surgery, though they were unable to do all they hoped because her heart is so complicated. She woke up briefly afterward and signed a bit with her parents. Should be home in two weeks or so if recovery goes well!

1 comment:

  1. Thanks, Kim. I really don't know what to say. It's hard to imagine what our life looks like to others. You make me sound so good! And you're right - while I try to forget about it, or not notice it, surgeries ARE hard. And I hate them. I long for the day when they are all behind us and we can just live our life and let her enjoy a poked-free life!

    Thank you for everything. You are a wonderful person and I am very lucky to have met you!

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