All Good

Teague is out of surgery. He's conscious, he's forced his eyes open (he thought he had to get permission and asked if he could yet), and he's talking. He's had some ice chips and swallowed two Tylenol. And then he asked if he could rest a little, so now he's drifting in and out of sleep.

The morning began early; we entered a crowded waiting room at 5:45 a.m. All the first-on-the-list kids were lined up for whatever surgeries they were having. In our pre-op room, Teague had to wipe down with pre-treated cloths to get extra clean, then he got into his gown. 

Rockin' the gown. He did not love the open-back feeling and had me tie it tighter.

Dr. Cheshier showed us Teague's latest image, marked the right side of his head to indicate which side the procedure would be done on, and showed us where he'd make the incision, a four-inch opening just behind the hairline. 

Totally fine with Dr. Cheshier's choice of marking. I'm all about the boy who lived.

By 7:40 or so, Teague was down the hall with the anesthesiologist after hugs for Quinn and me at the big double doors. By 9, the OR nurse called to let us know that Teague had been safely sedated and that they had made the initial incision (kind of a gut-turning thing to hear because I imagined them doing it, and that was not a good image). 

Headed back.

We breakfasted in the hospital cafeteria. Not because we were hungry, but because we know this place, and that's seriously the only good meal they serve here. After that, hunger is better. We ate and talked with a good friend who came to spend time with us, and that really helped keep our minds off of the waiting and any thoughts of what they were doing in there. 

Teague was coming out of surgery a little before lunchtime, but we didn't get to see him just yet. He was headed to Imaging for a post-op MRI to confirm that they had gotten everything. Dr. Cheshier explained that the area with the growth looked like normal brain tissue, so he literally couldn't tell by looking straight at it where the abnormality was. He had to go by the image, so they needed to confirm that they had indeed gotten the lesion. If not, it would be a U-turn back to the OR to get it. Even though the surgeon would consider that the same surgery, I'm not sure I would. But it didn't end up mattering. Imaging came back with what we wanted to hear. The chunk they took out, a cube of brain tissue about the size of the end of my finger from the last knuckle, was the chunk that contained the tumor, and it's on its way to pathology now.

Groggy but awake, and surprised at all the things he's hooked up to. 

Teague is comfortable for now. He's resting but will respond when spoken to. He hasn't asked for food yet, and he was surprised to see all the lines he's still hooked up to. 

Teague will stay the night in the PICU. There's a recliner in here for me, and it lays flat, so that will be my bed tonight. I'm choosing that over a bed in the Ronald McDonald house, which may be more comfortable, but if I'm here for my kid, I'll just stay with my kid. Quinn will go home to be with the other kids for the night.

He says he feels OK. "There's just a little pain on the right side of my head." (Could he be funnier?)

Thank you to all who have prayed for Teague and for our family. Thank you to all who have carted our kids around, made food, brought treats and cards for Teague, and walked our dog. I know that when you watch stuff like this happen to other people, you feel like you can't help, but your love helps. We feel the impact of your prayers. And we love you back.