The Thrill Is Gone

But that's good.

Short version:
Addy is doing exceptionally well and has surprised all the specialists. No surgery scheduled for at least a year.

Long version:
8:00 a.m.: rush out the door in usual Fray fashion. Drop the kids at school. Extra hugs. But I gotta go!

8:30 a.m.: traffic on Lake Shore Drive. Construction? Yeah, but the backup is really due to a stalled car.

8:45 a.m.: still on LSD. Addy throws up.

8:47 a.m.: Addy throws up again.

9:00 a.m.: pull into Children's parking garage. Garage is full. Must do complimentary valet at the top floor. Explain to the valet that we need a moment to change disgusting vomit clothes on saddy addy.

9:05 a.m.: get passes from front desk at the hospital. Try not to rush the very slow woman writing the tag. Does she really need to spell out c-a-r-d-i-o-l-o-g-y?

9:07 a.m.: rush to the elevators. Get accosted by woman soliciting money for a helipad. Really not the best time to hit me up for money.

9:10 a.m.: check in at cardiology reception C. Nope, our doctor is at reception D today.

9:11 a.m.: check in with incredibly rude and unhelpful woman at reception D. Tells us to wait in reception C.

9:15 a.m.: a nurse calls us back and we do the normal weight, blood pressure & height measurements. Tells us to wait for the EKG. We ask if she's going to get the ECHO we were specifically told to get. She doesn't know and apparently isn't going to find out.

9:30 a.m.: EKG technician arrives. Very nice woman. Great at her job, Great with Addy but insists on calling her Julia. Addy tolerated being held by Jake while I handed her bunny grahams. After a few attempts, she finally held still enough for long enough to get a good reading. We ask the tech if Addy's going to get the ECHO we were specifically told to get. She doesn't know but is willing to ask around to find out. We remind her that this is Adaline, not Julia.

9:50 a.m.: EKG tech informs us that Addy will get the ECHO, but we may be stuck in the room for awhile as they tend to get backed up.

10:00 a.m.: ECHO technician arrives. We gather all our belongings and head to an ECHO room. The tech tells us to make ourselves comfortable while she completes some paperwork.

10:20 am.: ECHO tech returns. Addy lays on the bed with Jake and watches Sesame Street. The tech is very nice and great at her job. I hand Addy more bunny grahams and water and Addy is not thrilled, but holds relatively still. I'm impressed with how interested she is in Sesame Street. And I think about how adorable it is that she clings to her teddy bear the whole time.

10:30 a.m.: Jake has dead arm and needs to switch positions with me. I lay with a very tired and now fairly unhappy Addy. The tech starts singing and Addy quickly calms down. I'm now very impressed with the tech.

10:40 a.m.: the ECHO is done, but we have to wait to be sure she got all the angles the doctor wants so we wait in the dark room. Addy and I fall asleep together. Jake takes a phone call. Jake takes a picture of us sleeping (it's actually not a bad picture).

11:00 a.m.: the tech returns and says she got everything and we should go back to reception C to see where they want us to go. Reception C leads us back to our original room. It seems very bright and I want to go back to the ECHO room and resume our nap.

11:20 a.m.: the nurse practitioner comes in and asks all kinds of questions about Addy's health. She checks her out. Leaves to get the cardiologist.

11:45 a.m.: The nurse practioner returns with the cardiologist. Addy gives her a big hug and steals her pager. The cardiologist listens to Addy's heart. She feels her chest and is happy to announce that her thrill (the rush of blood shooting out of the hole was so strong that you could feel it by placing your hand on Addy's chest -- think thumb over half a garden hose) is gone. This is good. She looks at the results of the EKG and ECHO and says that the hole is the same as it's always been. However, the bicuspid tissue has grown down and over to create a "pouch" that is essentially helping to staunch the leaking of blood from the right to the left ventricle. That's why Addy is growing so well and is seemingly so healthy. This bicuspid tissue is currently hanging in front of the hole which is awesome, but isn't attached (yet?) so we're not totally in the clear. The left ventricle is still at the uppermost limit of acceptable in size. We are supposed to assume that Addy will need surgery in a few years. But, we don't even go back for a check up until next year. The cardiologist told us that this is such a surprise. She was certain that Addy would need to have this corrected by 6 months. So, while I'm freaked out about the potential for open heart surgery when Addy is 4 or 5 years old, I'm so relieved that right now, things are on the right track. And I can't help but acknowledge that she's come so far on her own and maybe her heart will finish the job.

12:00 p.m.: The cardiologist checks her pager. She's sad to see that Addy didn't kill it. She informs us that we may need to find another pediatric cardiologist because hospitals and health care systems have changed in the area and she may not be allowed to see us. And Children's is moving soon. I'm sorry to say goodbye to the cardiologist, but so happy to never set foot in that hospital again.

12:15 p.m.: breathe a big sigh of relief. Walk toward the exit, fumbling with detaching our tags to return them to the front desk. Get accosted by fundraiser for the helipad. Better timing, but not by much. Remind myself that I will never come back to this hospital again.

10:30 p.m.: wake up to the sounds of Addy coughing and snuffling. Prop up her mattress.

12:15 a.m.: Addy is croupy. Snuggle her in bed next to Jake. Find a humidifier. Move dresser for optimal positioning. Fill humidifier and get it going. Put Addy back in her crib.

3:30 a.m.: Addy is very unhappy. Croupy. Soaking wet. Change Addy. Snuggle her in bed next to Jake. Change sheets. Turn off humidifier. Put Addy back in her crib.

6:45 a.m.: Josie crawls into bed and gives me a wonderful hug. Time to get up. Addy is happy and after a shower, seems healthy.

Life is back to normal.