Hospitals run on their own time, and their time runs slower than regular time. Our 2:30 biopsy just got underway, and I am hanging out with a couple dozen other parents in the PACU waiting room. This is where we waited during her transplant, although the room was empty then. This is where I SHOULD have during her spinal tap and MRI's. There's coffee. There's a computer or six. There's a receptionist who will hear when Babygirl is out of the OR and in recovery.
The energy is surprisingly low-key. I guess everybody deals with stress the way we did when we were here for all those hours: food, bad jokes, family support.
Today, while stressful, is relatively routine. It's the results we get tomorrow that change everything. Worrying is pointless, but it's almost become a hobby. I do my best to shut off everything that I know, because ignorance is truly bliss, but I have limited success controlling this particular switch.
She'll be out before I know it, and then she will rejoice in popsicles and chicken broth. We'll watch the Disney Channel, or the movies she brought along (Little Women? Yippee! Percy Jackson? Well, ok, if I must.). We'll play card games.
And we'll wait.