Of course, everything's subject to change, but here's our game plan for now:
E's already downtown with P doing last-minute tests and scans. Then they're off to Ronald McDonald House. After dinner, they can unpack, relax, and read a few chapters of Mr. Popper's Penguins before P douses E with antibacterial soap per the physician's instructions.
P's folks are headed to Lockport tonight with plans to stay as long as a month if needs be. If a month sounds excessive, it's not. Not given our experience. After E's aneurysm bleed four years ago, she was hospitalized for two months straight, followed by another month of inpatient rehab.
We're hoping E's not in the hospital that long. In fact, we're told told E could be released as soon as Monday or Tuesday. Can you believe it? Released that soon after brain surgery? A release that soon would be great. Really it would.
But we have to be realistic. E has never been a typical case. While a regular kid might be sick one day with a cold, E gets a fever and misses school for a week. Making long-term visit plans with Phil's folks makes sense, and is a bit like taking along an umbrella to ward off the rain.
I'm sticking around the house tonight. Doing last-minute laundry. Packing. Writing bills (because who knows when I'll get to them next). Helping my youngest with homework (and debriefing her about what to expect the next few days.) Packing our groceries for Ronald McDonald House. And making notes for P's folks about the things we take for granted (like where we keep Buffy's food and where we keep the extra TP).
Tomorrow, I head downtown after the girls leave for school. By the time I get to Children's, my sister-in-law and dad will be there, and E will have been in the OR nearly two hours. But that means P should have had two updates by then. The updates are a perk we weren't expecting. Much better than wearing the tiles outside the OR doors.
E should be done with surgery by 2 p.m., and out of recovery an hour and half, or two hours after that.
God bless the surgeons, and E's medical team. Keep their hands steady, and their heads clear. Keep Elena in the palm of your hand.