When I woke up, all I knew is
that I was in pain. Oddly enough, I didn’t have any pain in my head. The pain I
was having in my stomach and in my collarbone were excruciating. My stomach hurt so bad I remember wondering
if they made a mistake and did the wrong surgery. I expected to have a headache,
not this. They must have given me some
really good pain meds because the next thing I knew I was being wheeled into my
room. My husband and my mom were there waiting for me. I finally felt like I
could start to relax. My surgery had gone so well, that instead of going back
to the ICU, I was taken to a regular room. Not too much excitement from there.
At one point my ENT came to check on us and wish us well. Of course my surgeon came in to check on us
too. He said that I should be able to go home the next day. When I asked him
about the pain in my collarbone and stomach he told us that it was from the
tube that runs from the shunt. It takes the fluid from my brain into my
abdomen. From what I could understand, it's not exactly a gentle approach that they use while placing the tube. Made sense to me and gave me some reassurance that they didn’t perform
the wrong procedure. The highlight of my day was when my husband’s parents
brought the boys for a little visit. Hugs and kisses from them were just what I
needed.
That evening, my husband and
I started to discuss what we were going to do next. We knew we were going to
need help with what was to come. Lots of help. Especially with the boys. Our
parents both lived about 600 miles away. We knew we needed to be close to them.
So here it was, December 19th, just about a week before Christmas
and we decided to make the move. We were going home.
My husband began making calls
to try and arrange things. His company was so amazing. They pretty much told us
to do what we needed to do and they assured him that a position was waiting for
him where we were moving. Yet again we saw God’s hand in all this
craziness. We decided we would move in
with my parents since trying to find a place on such short notice would be
almost impossible and again, we knew I would need help for a while. I was discharged
the next afternoon and we headed home to start packing up what we would need to
make a quick move. Clothes in trash bags, some of the boy’s favorite things.
Our parents had already started getting things together for us and that was
such a big help. I was pretty much useless. Recovering very well, but really
not able to do anything to help. Our family and friends came by that night to
say goodbye. It was such a blur and I was still pretty medicated so I honestly
don’t remember much. But the cars were
packed and we were ready to leave in the morning.
We headed out early to try
and let the boys sleep some along the way. About 4 hours into the trip, we
realized that we had left all of the boys Christmas presents in the attic at
the house. Not a huge deal but gave us a good chuckle. The trip went along
well. Made an occasional stop for Big G as he seemed to be having a bit of carsickness,
but we made good time and got there safely. We were home.
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