Living in a Hospital

So I’ve spent the last 36 hours in a hospital, minus two hours for a quick trip home…got a shower, some real tea, checked in with cats and boychild, emptied the mailbox. Girlchild’s surgery went well, but dealing with pain and all the other fun post-surgical stuff has been difficult. I had a deal with my ex that if there were a second night, he would deal, and he was willing to do so, but in the end, she didn’t want her dad to be the one taking her to the bathroom in the middle of the night. So I’m here on the couch again.

Unfortunately, I had by then left the overnight bag at home, but he brought most of it…and a glass or two of wine, which was a plus. I graded during the surgery, but quit when it required higher orders of thinking, because I didn’t have that available. I stitched a little bit while waiting for her to come out of recovery. But since then, all I’ve managed is blog-reading. I can’t handle a long story, I’m too tired to have enough manual dexterity to stitch. I brought back a sketchbook and haven’t touched it.

It’s kind of exhausting just being in a hospital. I’ve switched into efficient mom mode, learning how to switch off that fucking annoying alarm that indicates her IV needs something. I’ve dealt with rolling her, feeding her, medicating her, and a wide range of bodily fluids.

She’s better. I’m hoping we get out of here tomorrow. I wanted to sleep in my own bed. I promised Kitten I’d be home tonight. Boychild has been on his own for days. School is a freakin’ disaster, don’t even ask.

But her back is fixed. It’s a solid fix. I’m hoping it was all worth it. I can suffer nights of barely any sleep and all that if it means she has a good final season of soccer. Pain free. Here’s hoping.